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Kedzie was tired of looking at pictures of herself. She had had to look over all the papers, since she was in them all. At least her other self, Anita Adair, was in them. In every paper there was a large advertisement with a large picture of her and the names of the theaters at which she would appear simultaneously in her new film.
But our fears for our friends were set at rest, for at that instant, the door opened and Mr. Watlin entered, followed by the young man and Tony, with Anita perching on his shoulder. Mary Ellen could not refrain from a broad smile at the spectacle. The kitchen was filled with delightful odours. The spirits of everyone seemed to rise at a bound.
Without being in the least aware of it, the flattered Anita, like an adroitly hooked trout, was being "played" in and out and round about the eddies and the deeps until the angler had her quite ready for the final dip of the net at the landing point. All this was to accomplish exactly what it did accomplish, namely, the ill temper, the wrath, the angry resentment of young Burnham-Seaforth.
For, whether her name was Anita or Anne, about her beauty there could be no argument; but he assured himself that he had acted within his rights. A girl who could see in a well-meant offer to be kind only a subject for ridicule was of no interest to him. Nor did her telegrams insisting upon continuing their acquaintance flatter him.
Naturally, Broussard hastened his leave-taking and received no invitation to remain, except from Anita's eyes, shy and long-lashed. When the Colonel and Mrs. Fortescue and Anita were sitting at the softly-shaded round table in the dining-room, Anita's chair was close to her father's the two were never far apart when they could be close together. Mrs.
Your father's attorneys will understand the matter fully when the estate is finally settled." "I cannot understand it," Anita murmured. "I thought my father's judgment almost infallible. However, Mr. Mallowe, I cannot express my gratitude to you and my father's other associates for your great kindness toward me. Believe me, I am deeply affected by it. I shall never forget what you have done."
Had Sister Anne lived, she would have understood; and he would have laid himself and his new position at her feet and begged her to accept them begged her to run away with him to this tremendous and terrifying capital of the world, and start the new life together. Among all the women he knew, there was none to take her place. Certainly Anita Flagg could not take her place.
She remembered Newport, the Noxon home. She tried to picture a bedroom there. She saw a palace of the best moving-picture period. She remembered the first moving picture she had seen in New York, and contrasted the Anita Adair of that adventure with the Anita Adair of this. She recalled that girl locking her door against the swell husband, and the poor but honest lover with the revolver.
"There it is," whispered Anita, pointing, half afraid even of the soft tones of her own voice. Constance had pulled down all the shades quietly, and drew the curtains tightly between the room and the foyer. On the top of the safe she was pouring some of the powder in a neat pile from one of the vials. "What is that?" asked Anita, bending close to her ear.
It was her name in the heavy type that caught the heavy eyes of Jim Dyckman at breakfast the next morning. It was thus that he came upon the fate of Thomas Gilfoyle, whose death had been the cause of all this pother. Before he could telephone Anita or Kedzie, as he mentally corrected himself he was informed that a Mr. Connery was at the door, asking for him.
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