"A corking time," Derry reiterated. "The President was there, and his
wife--and we danced a lot--and--" he caught himself up. "Well,
good-night, Miss Merritt."
"Good-night." She went back to the shadowed room.
Bronson, following Derry, came back in a half hour with a dry, "Is
there anything I can do for you, Miss Merritt?" and then the house was
still.
And now Hilda was alone with the old man in the lacquered bed. There
would be no interruptions until morning. It was the moment for which
she had waited ever since the hour when the General had sent her into
his wife's room for a miniature of Derry, which was locked in the safe.
The suite which had belonged to Mrs. Drake consisted of three rooms--a
sitting room, a bedroom and a sun-parlor which had been Derry's
nursery. Nothing had been changed since her death. Every day a maid
cleaned and dusted, and at certain seasons the clothes in the presses
were brushed and aired and put back again. In a little safe in the
wall were jewels, and the key was on the General's ring. He had given
the key to Hilda when he had sent her for the miniature.
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