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Updated: June 7, 2025
"I never thought of it." He saw it all with terrible distinctness, The man was Akers, of course. Then, if she had left her home rather than give him up, she was really in love with him. He had too much common sense to believe for a moment that she had fled to Louis Akers' protection, however. That was the last thing she would do. She would have gone to a hotel, or to the Doyle house.
Louis Akers had by that time announced his candidacy for Mayor, and organized labor was behind him to an alarming extent. When Willy Cameron went with Pink to the club that afternoon, he found Akers under discussion, and he heard some facts about that gentleman's private life which left him silent and morose. Pink knew nothing of Lily's friendship with Akers.
I picked up a few satiny shavings from the heap, stuck one in my mouth, and the other in my pocket for by-and-by, and continued my journey. I groaned with hunger. I had seen a marvellously large penny loaf at a baker's the largest I could possibly get for the price. "I come to find out Student Pettersen's address!" "Bernt Akers Street, No. 10, in the attic." Was I going out there?
Willy Cameron had gone very white. "Did the boy say where he was taking the things?" "To the Saint Elmo Hotel, sir." On the street again Willy Cameron took himself fiercely in hand. There were a half-dozen reasons why Akers might go to the Saint Elmo. He might, for one thing, have thought that he, Cameron, would go back to the Benedict. He might be hiding from Dan, or from reporters.
Unlike Doyle the calculating, who made each move slowly and watched its results with infinite zest, the Pole chafed under delay. "We can't hold them much longer," he complained, bitterly. "This thing of holding them off until after the election and until Akers takes office it's got too many ifs in it." "It was haste lost Seattle," said Doyle, as unmoved as Woslosky was excited.
Is our niece going to dine with us?" "I don't know yet, Mr. Akers," she said, without warmth. Louis Akers knew quite well that Elinor did not like him, and the thought amused him, the more so since as a rule women liked him rather too well. Deep in his heart he respected Jim Doyle's wife, and sometimes feared her.
He was very content with his evening's work. "Well?" he said, when Akers returned. "Merry as a marriage bell. I'm to show her the Brunelleschi drawings to-morrow." Slightly flushed, he smoothed his hair in front of the mirror over the stand. "She's a nice child," he said. In his eyes was the look of the hunting animal that scents food. Lily did not sleep very well that night.
Willy Cameron had not seen him since those spring days when he had made his casual, bold-eyed visits to Edith at the pharmacy, and he had a swift insight into the power this man must have over women. He himself was tall; but Akers was taller, fully muscled, his head strongly set on a neck like a column. But he surmised that the man was soft, out of condition.
I can't. You'll have to take my word, that's all. And you must believe I didn't know." "Of course you didn't know," he said, sturdily. "But I hate like thunder to go and leave you here." He picked up his hat, reluctantly. "If I can do anything " Lily's mind was working more clearly now. This was the thing Louis Akers had been concerned with, then, a revolution against his country.
But the glory of a picture fades like that of a flower. Contiguous to Mr. Mueller's studio was that of a young German artist, not long resident in Rome, and Mr. Akers proposed that we should go in there, as a matter of kindness to the young man, who is scarcely known at all, and seldom has a visitor to look at his pictures.
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