Long before
Beatrice came out, Tavernake could hear the professor's voice
down the covered passage, the professor's voice apparently raised
in anger.
"Undutiful behavior, that's what I call it--undutiful!"
They emerged into the street, the professor very much the same as
usual; Beatrice paler, with a pathetic droop about her mouth.
Tavernake came eagerly forward.
"Beatrice!" he cried, holding out his hand.
The professor drew back. Beatrice stood still,--for a moment it
seemed as though she were about to faint. Tavernake grasped her
hands.
"I am so sorry!" he exclaimed, clumsily. "I ought not to have
come up like that."
She smiled a little wan smile.
"I am quite all right," she replied, "only the heat inside was
rather trying, and even out here the atmosphere isn't too good,
is it? How did you find us out?"
"By chance again," Tavernake answered. "I have news. May I walk
with you a few steps?"
She glanced timidly toward her father. The professor was holding
aloof in dignified silence.
"Perhaps," Tavernake said quickly, "you would take supper with
me? I am going abroad, and I should like to say good-bye
properly. A bottle of champagne and some supper. What do you
say, Professor?"
The professor suffered his features to relax.
"A very admirable idea," he declared. "Where shall we go?"
"Is it too late to get to Imano's?" Tavernake suggested.
The professor hesitated.
"A taxicab," he remarked, "would do it, if--"
He paused, and Tavernake smiled.
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