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Updated: June 23, 2025
"He is, I should imagine, a little weak," Tavernake suggested, hesitatingly. "Very," she answered. "My mother left him in my charge, but I cannot keep him." "Your sister " he began. She nodded. "My sister has more influence than I. She makes life easier for him." They reached the restaurant and made their way upstairs. Tavernake appropriated the same table and once more the head waiter protested.
As soon as the door was closed she turned to Tavernake. Her manner seemed to become a shade less gracious. "Well?" "I don't know why I came," Tavernake confessed bluntly. "I was restless and I wanted to see you." She looked at him for a moment and then she laughed. Tavernake felt a sense of relief; at least she was not angry. "Oh, you strangest of mortals!" she exclaimed, holding out her hands.
"Well, we'll let it go at that," Tavernake declared. "You know so much of all these people, though, that I rather wish you 'd tell me something I want very much to know." "It's by telling nothing," the detective replied quickly, "that I know as much as I do. Just one cocktail, eh?" Tavernake shook his head. "I drank my first cocktail last night," he remarked.
All expression seemed to pass from her face; the very life seemed drawn from it. Those who were watching her saw suddenly an old woman looking at something of which she was afraid. The girl seemed to find an unnatural strength. She dragged herself up and turned wildly to Tavernake. "Take me away," she cried, in a low voice. "Take me away at once." The woman at the counter did not speak.
So I came this morning, but I want you, if you possibly can, to look at the matter from my point of view." She was silent for several moments. Then she glanced at him curiously. "Why on earth," she asked, "should my sister make this offer to you? She isn't a fool. She doesn't usually trust strangers." "She trusted me, apparently," Tavernake answered. "Can you understand why?" Beatrice demanded.
"At about eleven o'clock to-morrow morning," he announced, "I shall have the pleasure of calling upon you. I trust that you will have decided to take the house." Tavernake sat a few hours later at his evening meal in the tiny sitting-room of an apartment house in Chelsea.
"It is a matter of business," Tavernake replied. "I have a friend who is a partner with me in the Marston Rise building speculation, and he is worried because there is some one else in the field wanting to buy the property, and the day after to-morrow is our last chance of paying over the money." She looked at him as though puzzled. "What money?"
"Come and see me, every now and then, and let me know how my sister is. Perhaps you may be able to suggest some way in which I can help her." Tavernake considered the question for a moment. He was angry with himself for the unaccountable sense of pleasure which her suggestion had given him. "I am not quite sure," he said, "whether I had better come.
Tavernake, father," she remarked, after he had given a somewhat lengthy order to the waiter. "I met and talked with Mr. Tavernake here the other night," the professor admitted, with condescension. "Mr. Tavernake was very good to me at a time when I needed help," Beatrice told him. The professor grasped Tavernake's hands. "You were good to my child," he said, "you were good to me.
Late in the afternoon of the following day, Ruth came home from the village and found Tavernake hard at work on his boat. She put down her basket and stopped by his side. "So you are back again," she remarked. "Yes, I am back again." "And nothing has happened?" "Nothing has happened," he assented, wearily. "Nothing ever will happen now." She smiled.
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