"You received my telegram in time, then?" said Durrance.
"Luckily it found me at home."
"I have brought a bag. May I trespass upon you for a night's lodging?"
"By all means," said Sutch, but the tone of his voice quite clearly to
Durrance's ears belied the heartiness of the words. Durrance, however,
was prepared for a reluctant welcome, and he had purposely sent his
telegram at the last moment. Had he given an address, he suspected that
he might have received a refusal of his visit. And his suspicion was
accurate enough. The telegram, it is true, had merely announced
Durrance's visit, it had stated nothing of his object; but its despatch
was sufficient to warn Sutch that something grave had happened,
something untoward in the relations of Ethne Eustace and Durrance.
Durrance had come, no doubt, to renew his inquiries about Harry
Feversham, those inquiries which Sutch was on no account to answer,
which he must parry all this afternoon and night. But he saw Durrance
feeling about with his raised foot for the step of the trap, and the
fact of his visitor's blindness was brought home to him. He reached out
a hand, and catching Durrance by the arm, helped him up.
Pages:
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348