No one but you must know that my daughter
is interested in this man--Peter God. She trusts you. She sent me to you.
It is important that she should see you to-night and talk with you alone.
I will wait for you outside. I will have a taxicab ready to take you to
our apartments. Will you come?"
He had risen. Philip heard Barrow's footsteps behind him.
"I will come," he said.
A few minutes later Colonel McCloud and his daughter left the cafe. The
half-hour after that passed with leaden slowness to Philip. The fortunate
arrival of two or three friends of Barrow gave him an opportunity to
excuse himself on the plea of an important engagement, and he bade the
Mica King good-night. Colonel McCloud was waiting for him outside the
cafe, and as they entered a taxicab, he said:
"My daughter is quite unstrung to-night, and I sent her home. She is
waiting for us. Will you have a smoke, Mr. Curtis?"
With a feeling that this night had set stirring a brew of strange and
unforeseen events for him, Philip sat in a softly lighted and richly
furnished room and waited. The Colonel had been gone a full quarter-hour.
He had left a box half filled with cigars on a table at Philip's elbow,
pressing him to smoke. They were an English brand of cigar, and on the
box was stamped the name of the Montreal dealer from whom they had been
purchased.
"My daughter will come presently," Colonel McCloud had said.
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