DANCE OF THE HOURS
he had failed to communicate with the police—knowing that his treasure had been ravished?
It was all very involved. Mr. Maitland returned the glass to O'Hagan and, cradling his head in his hands, racked his brains in vain for a satisfactory tale to tell. There were so many things to be taken into consideration. There was the girl in grey. …
Not that he had forgotten her for an instant; his fury raged but the higher at the thought that Anisty's interference had prevented his (Maitland's) keeping the engagement. Doubtless the girl had waited, then gone away in anger, believing that the man in whom she had placed faith had proved himself unworthy. And so he had lost her for ever, in all likelihood: they would never meet again.
But that telephone call?
"O'Hagan," demanded the haggard and distraught young man, "who was that on the wire just now?"
Being a thoroughly trained servant, O'Hagan had waited that question in silence, a-quiver with im-
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