He was not going to let
her see Aunt Elinor. She was frightened, but she was angry, too.
She would not run away. She would wait until he came down, and if
he was insolent, well, she could be haughty. She moved to the fire
and stood there, slightly flushed, but very straight.
She heard him coming down again almost immediately. He was outside
the door. But he did not come in at once. She had a sudden
impression that he was standing there, his hand on the knob,
outlining what he meant to say to her when he showed the door to a
hated Cardew. Afterwards she came to know how right that impression
was. He was never spontaneous. He was a man who debated everything,
calculated everything beforehand.
When he came in it was slowly, and with his head bent, as though he
still debated within himself. Then:
"I think I have a right to ask what Anthony Cardew's granddaughter
is doing in my house."
"Your wife's niece has come to call on her, Mr. Doyle."
"Are you quite sure that is all?"
"I assure you that is all," Lily said haughtily. "It had not
occurred to me that you would be here."
"I dare say. Still, strangely enough, I do spend a certain amount
of time in my home.
Pages:
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123