"The boy said as to sign here."
Beryl wrote her name mechanically in letters that zigzagged crazily.
Harkness lingered while she tore open the envelope, concern struggling
with curiosity on his face.
"It's from Robin's guardian. He--he wants--oh, Harkness, am I reading
_right_? He says I must come to New York at _once_--tonight, if I can.
He'll meet me--it's _extremely_ important. Why, Harkness, what in the
world has happened? It doesn't sound awful, does it? Did you ever know
of anything so mysterious in your life?"
Harkness never had. He read the telegram with brows drawn together.
"Mebbe they left out something," he suggested, turning the sheet and
scrutinizing its back.
"Well, I'll _have_ to go." Beryl's voice betrayed her deep excitement.
"I _can_ catch the evening train. Oh, Harkness, how often I've watched
that go out and wished I was on it! And now I'm going to be. I'm going
to New York! Harkness, be a _dear_ and hurry some dinner, will you? I'll
pack. And oh, will you take a note to mother for me? I'll not have time
to stop. Or wait--I won't tell her I'm going until I know what it's
for--she'd worry.
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