And, do you
know, I'm half in love with her already?"
His verbal enthusiasm in no way imparted itself to young Conniston. So
Roger puffed complacently at his cigarette in thoughtful silence,
rather more than usually well pleased with himself.
The late afternoon drew on, and the girl had not returned to them.
Conniston looked at his watch and saw that it was half-past five. They
would have to leave within an hour and a half; they could not impose
longer than that. He was hoping that she would spend at least the last
half-hour with them when he heard the door open and looked up quickly,
thinking she was coming. It was the Japanese boy, bowing and smiling.
"Most honorable sir," looking doubtfully from one of them to the
other, "the telephone would speak with you."
Conniston sprang to his feet. Hapgood smiled his satisfaction. "The
old gent is as prompt as the very deuce, God bless him!"
Conniston hurried after the boy into the house, leaving Hapgood
beaming.
"Mr. Conniston?" the telephone-girl was asking.
"Yes, I'm Conniston. You have the answer?"
"Yes. Shall I read it to you?"
"Please."
"It's rather long," she laughed into the telephone. "But it's paid. It
runs:
"MY DEAR SON,--Your wire received. Sorry you
misunderstood me. So that you may make no mistakes in the
future I shall be more explicit now.
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