As he sat opposite to her, his eyes, in
spite of himself, kept straying to her face. Gazing at her, Casti's
eyes grew dim. He forced himself not to look at her again till the
cab stopped.
"They are prepared for you here," he said, as they stood on the
pavement. "Just give your name. And--you will not go away? You
will wait till some one calls?"
Ida nodded.
" No; but your word," Julian urged anxiously. "Promise me."
"I promise."
She went up to the door and knocked. Julian walked quickly away. At
the end of the street Mr. Woodstock was waiting.
"What's the matter?" he asked, examining the young man anxiously.
"Nothing--nothing!"
"Does she seem well?"
"I think so; yes," Casti replied, in a stifled voice. Then he asked
hurriedly, "Where can Waymark be? What does it all mean?"
Mr. Woodstock shook his head, looking annoyed.
"I am convinced," Julian said, "that something is wrong. Surely it's
time to make inquiries."
"Yes, yes; I will do so. But you look downright ill. Do you feel
able to get home? If I'd thought it would upset you like this--"
Mr. Woodstock was puzzled, and kept scrutinising the other's face.
"I shall go home and have a little rest," Julian said.
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