I do
not know why--she didn't explain--but that is how she looked."
"Yet she sent you away!"
"She sent me away. She didn't care what became of me. She was
watching the door all the time before he came. Who is he,
Pritchard?"
"That sounds a simple question," Pritchard answered gravely, "but
it means a good deal. There's mischief afoot to-night,
Tavernake."
"You seem to thrive on it," Tavernake retorted, drily. "Any more
bunkum?"
Pritchard smiled.
"Come," he said," you're a sensible chap. Take these things for
what they're worth. Believe me when I tell you now that there is
a great deal more in the coming of this man than Mrs. Wenham
Gardner ever bargained for."
"I wish you'd tell me who he is," Tavernake begged. "All this
mystery about Beatrice and her sister, and that lazy old hulk of
a father, is most irritating."
Pritchard nodded sympathetically.
"You'll have to put up with it a little longer, I'm afraid, my
young friend," he declared. "You've done me a good turn; I'll do
you one. I'll give you some good advice. Keep out of this place
so long as the old man and his daughter are hanging out here.
The girl 's clever--oh, she's as clever as they make them--but
she's gone wrong from the start. They ain't your sort,
Tavernake. You don't fit in anywhere. Take my advice and hook
it altogether."
Tavernake shook his head.
"I can't do that just now," he said. "Good-night! I'm off for
the present, at any rate.
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