THE UNSPEAKABLE GENTLEMAN
And then, although I could not see him, I knew he had undergone a change, and I knew that I was facing a different man.
His hand fell on my shoulder, and to my surprise, it was trembling.
"God!" he cried, in a voice that was suddenly harsh and forbidding. "Do you mean to tell me you left Mademoiselle, and never struck a blow? You left her there?"
"Not entirely," I replied.
My father became very gentle.
"Will you be done with this?" he said. "The lady, where is she now?"
And then, half to himself he added.
"How was I to know they would break in the house after I had gone?"
"Mademoiselle," I replied, "is not fifteen feet away."
His hand went up to the clasp of his cloak, and again his voice became pleasantly conversational.
"Ah, that is better," said my father. "And so you got the paper after all. Yes, I am growing old, my son. I appear to have bungled badly. Do you hope to keep the paper?"
In the distance I heard a voice again raised in a shout. Surely he understood.
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