The mere rim of it was visible behind
the image of an old gentleman with a sardonic mouth.
An hour later, Tom came back, and spoke through the closed door. "Boy,
don't you think you can get to sleep now?"
"Yes, Tom. It's all right. You get to bed. Nothing troubles me."
Meredith spent the next day in great tribulation and perplexity; he felt
that something had to be done, but what to do he did not know. He still
believed that a "stirring-up" was what Harkless needed--not the species of
"stirring-up" that had taken place last night, but a diversion which would
divert. As they sat at dinner, a suggestion came to him and he determined
to follow it. He was called to the telephone, and a voice strange to his
ear murmured in a tone of polite deference: "A lady wishes to know if Mr.
Meredith and his visitor intend being present at the country-club this
evening."
He had received the same inquiry from Miss Hinsdale on her departure the
previous evening, and had answered vaguely; hence he now rejoined:
"You are quite an expert ventriloquist, but you do not deceive me."
"I beg your pardon, sir," creaked the small articulation.
"This is Miss Hinsdale, isn't it?"
"No, sir. The lady wishes to know if you will kindly answer her question."
"Tell her, yes." He hung up the receiver, and returned to the table.
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