"Never see the governor in such a fuss," the latter declared,
confidentially, "She's asking no end of questions and he don't
know a thing."
"Who is the lady?" Tavernake asked, on the way downstairs.
"Didn't hear her name," the boy replied. "She's all right,
though, I can tell you--a regular slap-up beauty. Such a
motor-car, too! Flowers and tables and all sorts of things
inside. By Jove, won't the governor tear his hair if she goes
before you get there!"
Tavernake quickened his steps and in a few moments knocked at the
door of the private office and entered.
His chief welcomed him with a gesture of relief. The
distinguished client of the firm, whose attention he was
endeavoring to engage, had glanced toward the newcomer, at his
first appearance, with an air of somewhat bored unconcern. Her
eyes, however, did not immediately leave his face. On the
contrary, from the moment of his entrance she watched him
steadfastly. Tavernake, stolid, unruffled, at that time without
comprehension, approached the desk.
"This is--er--Mr. Tavernake, our manager," Mr. Dowling announced,
obsequiously. "In the absence of my son, he is in charge of the
letting department. I have no doubt that he will be able to
suggest something suitable. Tavernake," he continued, "this
lady,"--he glanced at a card in front of him--"Mrs. Wenham
Gardner of New York, is looking for a town house, and has been
kind enough to favor us with an inquiry.
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