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Updated: June 20, 2025
A less infatuated wooer than Medenham might have noted that she seemed to fear interruption more than any too impulsive action on his part. "I sent for you to tell you that Mrs. Devar is ill," she said in a flurry of words. "I am afraid she suffered more from the fright than I imagined last night. Anyhow, she has asked me to let her remain here to-day.
"Well, go on; that sounds like the beginning of a letter." Mrs. Devar suddenly determined not to feel scandalized. "Ah, well!" she sighed, "one must relax a little when touring, but you Americans have such free and easy manners that we staid Britons are apt to lose our breath occasionally when we hear of something out of the common."
You have met Count Edouard Marigny, I fancy?" "Yes, in Paris last month. In fact " Cynthia hesitated. She had scarcely recovered from the excitement of the racing and was not choosing her words quite happily. Mrs. Devar, still sugary, ended the sentence. "In fact, it was he who recommended me to Mr. Vanrenen as your chaperon. Yes, my dear, Monsieur Marigny and I are old friends.
Devar, too flustered at first to gasp more than an "Oh!" of astonishment, leaned forward and shook his hand with marked cordiality. "You must tell Dale to take great care of us," she said, knowingly. "I think he realizes the exceeding trust I repose in him," he said, but the accompanying smile was meant for Cynthia, and she read into it a farewell that presaged many things.
Did you spot those two last night, low down in the west?" "Yes." "And what did they prognosticate?" "That you and I would promise Mr. Steingall not to spoil any scheme he may have in mind by interfering at an inopportune moment." "I suppose I ought to feel crushed, but I don't," said Devar.
Those who knew him would have augured from that fact that the chase was reaching its climax, but Curtis and Devar fancied that the little man was thoroughly worn out and pining for rest. Never had they been more egregiously deceived.
"Oh, that was an inspiration," chuckled Devar. "An inspiration founded on a solid basis of fact. Now, out with it!" "Well, I was a year at Heidelberg, you know, and a fellow there told me that one evening, in a café at Temesvar, a student kicked up a shindy by singing that song.
Howard Devar, son of my friend William B. Devar?" he asked. "Yes," said Devar, feeling that this was safe ground. "My father and you put it that way since you pulled off the Saskatchewan Combine together, but I've heard him describe you differently." Schmidt, who looked more egg-like than ever at this hour of the morning, disapproved of such flippancy.
There were some, perhaps, who wondered; others who saw in his brusqueness nothing more than the confusion of an inferior overwhelmed by the kindly condescension of a young and charming mistress; but the one who did fully and truly interpret the secret springs of his action went suddenly white to the lips, and her voice was curiously low and strained as she turned to Mrs. Devar.
You, Devar, being an approved night hawk, will join me in a cigar. How is that for a reasonable disposal of the company, Mr. Steingall?" As though in reply, the telephone rang again, and the detective lifted the receiver from its hook. "Hello! That you, Clancy?" he said. "Right. I'll come along by the subway from 59th Street that will be quicker than a taxi . . . yes . . . yes."
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