It's
so strange as yet. We must wait." She rose, rather weakly, and supported
herself with the back of a chair. "When I'm ready for you to call, I'll
send you a message."
There was nothing for Turl to do but bow to this temporary dismissal, and
Larcher saw the fitness of going at the same time. With few and rather
embarrassed words of departure, the young men left Florence to the
company of Edna Hill, in whom astonishment had produced for once the
effect of comparative speechlessness.
Out in the hall, when the door of the Kenby suite had closed behind them,
Turl said to Larcher: "You've had a good deal of trouble over Murray
Davenport, and shown much kindness in his interest. I must apologize for
the trouble,--as his representative, you know,--and thank you for the
kindness."
"Don't mention either," said Larcher, cordially. "I take it from your
tone," said Turl, smiling, "that my story doesn't alter the friendly
relations between us."
"Not in the least. I'll do all I can to help the illusion, both for the
sake of Murray Davenport that was and of you that are. It wouldn't do for
a conception like yours--so original and bold--to come to failure. Are
you going to turn in now?"
"Not if I may go part of the way home with you. This snow-storm is worth
being out in. Wait here till I get my hat and overcoat."
He guided Larcher into the drawing-room. As they entered, they came face
to face with a man standing just a pace from the threshold--a bulky man
with overcoat and hat on.
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