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Granberry's costume was planned maliciously as an impersonal affront to me. He knew of my plans through a telegram of mine to Themar and made his own accordingly. It was not your past to which he referred. Surely it is not difficult to catch his meaning?" "Blunders and blunders and quixotic scruples," raved Ronador, "and now this crowning indignity to-night!
A log blazed in the library fireplace, staining with warm, rich shadows the square-paneled ceiling of oak and the huge war-beaten slab of table-wood about which the men were gathered, both feudal relics brought to the New York home of Carl Granberry's uncle from a ruined castle in Spain. "If you've gone through all your money," resumed Starrett offensively, "I'd marry Diane."
Tregar stroked his beard. "There is a doctor," he said quietly, "of whom Poynter has told me much a doctor who healed Granberry's mind as well as his body. I had thought to go to him myself to rest. I, too, am tired, Ronador. One goes to a little hamlet and an old man guides by a road to the south into the Everglades. Let us go there together." "No!" said Ronador sullenly. "Let us rather go home.
He begged Carl to give him an immediate opportunity of squaring himself, for he had telephoned the house so frequently of late that the butler had grown insulting. Mr. Dorrigan added that he hoped Mr. Granberry's wholly justified wrath had somewhat abated, but that for purposes of initial communication the telephone had seemed more prudent. He was plainly relieved at the answer.
"He is here at my command to-night after an illness of weeks. He has been Granberry's prisoner. His illness alone won his release for him through some inconsistent whim of sympathy on the part of Granberry. He wears the garb of a gray monk." "Send him here." The Baron bowed and withdrew. At the path he turned.
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