He sent her for your picture--the one that your mother used to
wear. I thought then that he wasn't quite right in his head, with the
fever and all, or he would have sent me. But a woman like that--"
"Dr. McKenzie has the greatest confidence in her."
"I know, sir, and she's probably played square with him--but she ain't
playing square here."
"It can't go on, of course. I shall have to tell McKenzie."
Bronson protested nervously. "If she puts her word against mine, who
but you will believe me? I'd rather you saw it yourself, Mr. Derry,
and left my name out of it."
"But I can't sit on the steps and watch."
"No, sir, but you can come in unexpected from the outside--when I flash
on the third floor light for you."
Derry slept little that night. Ahead of him stretched twenty-four
hours of suspense--twenty-four hours in which he would have to think of
this thing which was hidden in the big house in which his mother had
reigned.
In the weeks since he had met Jean, he had managed to thrust it into
the back of his mind--he had, indeed, in the midst of his happiness,
forgotten his bitterness, his sense of injustice--he wondered if he had
not in a sense forgotten his patriotism.
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