CHAPTER XV
A DISCORDANT LOHENGRIN
That carefree and slightly patronizing attitude towards the universe in general had forsaken the bridegroom. He was growing nervous, even over trifles. Perhaps the twin bracers which he had just taken were responsible, or his rather real infatuation for the unattainable (in the guise of Sally). Or possibly the cause was another lady, most maladroit and inopportune, she who never waited her cues, but entered unbidden.
Just now the faithful Agatha, who took the place of butler, an official unheard of in Salthaven even in the Huntington household, was shrilling up the stairs,—
"Telephone for Mr. Philip."
His father rose with an eagerness, suspiciously high-keyed.
"I'll answer, my boy, you hurry and dress."
This was the second time that the old gentleman had insisted on answering the call. Philip guessed there had been others. He was right about that.
He stole to the door and listened, the end of the conversation that he could hear being suspicious enough.
"No!"
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