I caught him looking very impressibly at you this morning,
and I am quite sure, if he sees anything more of you, he will be
falling head over ears in love. Which is the very last thing in the
world I want!"
"That's making me out to be very attractive, Daddy," Gladys said,
looking round at him mischievously.
"And so you are, dear!" John Martin said. "Wonderfully attractive! and
none knows it better than yourself. But in this case you must think of
consequences--consequences that might be disastrous to us all!
Confound it all, who's this? What on earth does he want?"
Gladys gazed in astonishment. A young and very smartly dressed man was
advancing towards them with a soft, cat-like tread. He was of medium
height and slim build. His head disproportionately large; his right
ear standing out, in proof that it had long been used as a pen-rest;
his nose pronounced and Semitic in outline; his eyes, big, projecting
and yellowish brown; his chin, retreating; his complexion, dark and
saturnine.
Gladys shivered. "What a horrible person!" she whispered, "there is
something positively uncanny about him. I feel cold all over and how
he stares!"
"Yes--what is it?" John Martin demanded. "Do you want to see me?"
"You're Mr. Martin, I reckon!" the stranger replied in the soft drawl,
characteristic of California. "I've come to have a little talk with
you on business."
"With me--on business!" John Martin cried.
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