Wenham Gardner. For several minutes he
waited about in nervous anticipation, then he was told that she
was not at home. More than a little disappointed, he pressed for
news of her. The hall porter thought that she had gone down into
the country, and if so it was doubtful when she would be back.
Tavernake was now seriously disconcerted.
"I want particularly to wire to her," he insisted. "Please find
out from her maid how I shall direct a telegram."
The hall porter, who was a most superior person, regarded him
blandly.
"We do not give addresses, sir," he explained, "unless at the
expressed wish of our clients. If you leave a telegram here, I
will send it up to Mrs. Gardner's rooms to be forwarded."
Tavernake scribbled one out, begging for news of her return,
added his address and left the place. Then he wandered aimlessly
about the streets. There seemed something flat about the
morning, some aftermath of the excitement of the previous night
was still stirring in his blood. Nevertheless, he pulled himself
together with an effort, called for a young surveyor whom he had
engaged to assist him, and spent the rest of the day out upon the
hill. Religiously he kept his thoughts turned upon his work
until the twilight came. Then he hurried home to meet the
disappointment which he had more than half anticipated. There
was no telegram for him! He ate his dinner and sat with folded
arms, looking out into the street. Still no telegram! The
restlessness came back once more.
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