At
this point a knock at the locked door caused both the girl and her
audience to start. Wharton looked at Mrs. Earle inquiringly, but she
shook her head, and with a look at him also of inquiry, and of suspicion
as well, opened the door.
With apologies her head waiter presented a letter.
"For Mr. Wharton," he explained, "from his chauffeur."
Wharton's annoyance at the interruption was most apparent. "What the
devil--" he began.
He read the note rapidly, and with a frown of irritation raised his eyes
to Mrs. Earle.
"He wants to go to New Rochelle for an inner tube," he said. "How long
would it take him to get there and back?"
The hard and distrustful expression upon the face of Mrs. Earle, which
was habitual, was now most strongly in evidence. Her eyes searched those
of Wharton.
"Twenty minutes," she said.
"He can't go," snapped Wharton.
"Tell him," he directed the waiter, "to stay where he is. Tell him I
may want to go back to the office any minute." He turned eagerly to the
girl. "I'm sorry," he said. With impatience he crumpled the note into a
ball and glanced about him.
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