That's plain, isn't it? But if you're going to
sit with a frozen face-- She'll be useful. Useful as hell to a
preacher."
"I can't use my family that way."
"You and your family! Now listen, Elinor. This isn't a matter o
the Cardews and me. It may be nothing, but it may be a big thing.
I hardly know yet--" His voice trailed off; he stood with his head
bent, lost in those eternal calculations with which Elinor Doyle
was so familiar.
The doorbell rang, and was immediately followed by the opening and
closing of the front door.
From her station at the telephone Lily Cardew saw a man come in,
little more than a huge black shadow, which placed a hat on the
stand and then, striking a match, lighted the gas overhead. In the
illumination he stood before the mirror, smoothing back his shining
black hair. Then he saw her, stared and retreated into the sitting
room.
"Got company, I see."
"My niece, Lily Cardew," said Doyle, dryly.
The gentleman seemed highly amused. Evidently he considered Lily's
presence in the house in the nature of a huge joke. He was
conveying this by pantomime, in deference to the open door, when
Doyle nodded toward Elinor.
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