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Tavernake, as a young man of common sense. What is your opinion?" Tavernake, much too honest to be capable in a general way of duplicity, was on the point of giving it, but he caught Beatrice's imploring gaze. Her lips were moving. He hesitated.
Tavernake walked to the city and in less than half an hour's time found himself in Mr. Martin's office. The lawyer welcomed him warmly. "I'm jolly glad to see you, Tavernake," he declared. "I hope you've got the money. Sit down." Tavernake did not sit down; he had forgotten, indeed, to take of his hat. "Martin," he said, "I am sorry for you.
"I wish that I had gone myself," he declared. "She obviously wished me to, but it happened to be inconvenient. By-the-bye, Tavernake, close the door, will you? There is another matter concerning which I should like to speak to you." Tavernake did as he was bidden at once, without any disquietude.
I do not know what her motives may have been, but I think that I should like to ask her first before I tell you where she is to be found." Mrs. Wenham Gardner leaned towards him. It was certainly the first time that a woman in her apparent rank of life had looked upon Tavernake in such a manner.
Tavernake studied the pattern of the parquet floor for several moments. It was a difficult problem, this. Putting his own extraordinary sensations into the background, he was face to face with something which he did not comprehend, and he disliked the position intensely. After all, delay seemed safest. "Madam," he protested, "a few hours more or less can make but little difference."
"I mean that I am going to her," Tavernake answered, "and I have no idea in the world what will happen whether I shall believe her or not. I can see what you think of me," he went on, becoming a little more himself as the stress of unaccustomed speech passed him by. "I will tell you something that will show you that I realize a good deal. I know the difference between Beatrice and Elizabeth.
"Why, this is what I call luck!" a familiar voice exclaimed. "Mr. Tavernake, you're the very man I was looking for!" Tavernake was not sociably inclined and took no pains to conceal the fact. Mr. Pritchard, however, was not easily to be shaken off. "So you've been palling up to the old man, eh?" he remarked, in friendly fashion.
A more susceptible man than Tavernake must have felt a little remorseful at the tears which dimmed for a moment her beautiful eyes. Tavernake, however, although he felt a moment's uneasiness, although he felt himself assailed all the time by a curious new emotion which he utterly failed to understand, was nevertheless still immune. The things which were to happen to him had not yet, arrived.
Once more her voice was deliciously soft, her forehead delicately wrinkled, her blue eyes filled with alluring light. "Mr. Tavernake," she murmured, "do you know that you are not in the least kind to me? Beatrice and I are sisters, after all. Even she has admitted that.
"Five minutes ago," Tavernake began, speaking rapidly, "I met a man in the Strand whom I know slightly Pritchard, an American detective. He said that he had something to say to me and he asked me to walk round with him to a club in this Terrace. We were in the middle of the road there, talking, when a man sprang at him; he must have come up behind quite noiselessly.
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