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Updated: June 26, 2025
The head waiter shrugged his shoulders and departed; his other clients must be mollified. There was a finality which was unanswerable about Tavernake's methods. Tavernake ate and drank what they brought to him, ate and drank and suffered.
The chemist was engrossed upon his task; Tavernake's eyes were still riveted upon this woman, who seemed to him the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in life. No one was watching the girl. The chemist was the first to see her face, and that only in a looking glass. He stopped in the act of mixing his drug and turned slowly round. His expression was such that they all followed his eyes.
Tavernake's fit of mirth came with as little apparent reason as the puffs of wind which every now and then stole down from the mountain side and made faint music in the virgin forests. Pritchard turned over on his side and looked at him. Cigars had for many weeks been an unknown thing, and he was smoking a corn-cob pipe full of coarse tobacco. "Stumbled across a joke anywhere?" he asked.
Beatrice leaned over and laid her fingers upon his. "Father," she said, "it doesn't matter please. I am not willing to marry Mr. Tavernake." The professor looked from one to the other and coughed. "Are Mr. Tavernake's means," he asked, "of sufficient importance to warrant his entering into matrimony?" "I have no money at all to speak of," Tavernake answered. "That really isn't important.
He struck the crazy table with his clenched fist so that the crockery upon it rattled. Pritchard was used to seeing men strong men, too moved by various passions, but in Tavernake's face he seemed to see new things. "Pritchard," Tavernake exclaimed, "I don't want to hear another word!" Pritchard smiled. "Look here," he said, "what I am going to tell you is the truth.
Pritchard was the first visitor who had ever found his way into Tavernake's lodgings. It was barely eight o'clock on the same morning. Tavernake, hollow-eyed and bewildered, sat up upon the sofa and gazed across the room. "Pritchard!" he exclaimed. "Why, what do you want?" Pritchard laid his hat and gloves upon the table.
Pritchard made no reply. His eyes were fixed upon the little group at the next table. Elizabeth was leaning back in her chair. She seemed to have abandoned the conversation. Her eyes were always seeking Tavernake's. Pritchard rose to his feet abruptly. "It's time we were in bed," he declared. "Remember the meeting to-morrow." Tavernake rose to his feet.
Then, with a cry of triumph, he stooped down and picked something up from a crack in the flagged stones. "The key!" he cried. "Come on, quick!" He thrust it into the lock and turned it; the door swung smoothly open. The policeman laid his hand upon Tavernake's shoulder. "Look here," he said, "let's have that story of yours again, a little more clearly. Who is it that's in this house?"
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