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Page 26
"She's an Abingdon," came the deep tones of Doctor McMurdoch.
"She arrived only two hours ago and here she is."
"There can be no rest for me, Doctor," said the girl, and strove
valiantly to control her voice, "until this dreadful doubt is
removed. Mr. Harley"--she turned to him appealingly--"please
don't study my feelings in the least; I can bear anything--now;
just tell me what happened. Oh! I had to come. I felt that I had
to come."
As Paul Harley placed an armchair for his visitor, his glance met
that of Doctor McMurdoch, and in the gloomy eyes he read
admiration of this girl who could thus conquer the inherent
weakness of her sex and at such an hour and after a dreadful
ordeal set her hand to the task which fate had laid upon her.
Doctor McMurdoch sat down on a chair beside the door, setting his
silk hat upon the floor and clasping his massive chin with his
hand.
"I will endeavour to do as you wish, Miss Abingdon," said Harley,
glancing anxiously at the physician.
But Doctor McMurdoch returned only a dull stare. It was evident
that this man of stone was as clay in the hands of Phil Abingdon.
He deprecated the strain which she was imposing upon her nervous
system, already overwrought to the danger point, but he was
helpless for all his dour obstinacy. Harley, looking down at the
girl's profile, read a new meaning into the firm line of her
chin. He was conscious of an insane desire to put his arms around
this new acquaintance who seemed in some indefinable yet definite
way to belong to him and to whisper the tragic story he had to
tell, comforting her the while.
He began to relate what had taken place at the first interview,
when Sir Charles had told him of the menace which he had believed
to hang over his life. He spoke slowly, deliberately, choosing
his words with a view to sparing Phil Abingdon's feelings as far
as possible.
She made no comment throughout, but her fingers alternately
tightened and relaxed their hold upon the arms of the chair in
which she was seated. Once, at some reference to words spoken by
her father, her sensitive lips began to quiver and Harley,
watching her, paused. She held the chair arms more tightly.
"Please go on, Mr. Harley," she said.
The words were spoken in a very low voice, but the speaker looked
up bravely, and Harley, reassured, proceeded uninterruptedly to
the end of the story. Then:
"At some future time, Miss Abingdon," he concluded, "I hope you
will allow me to call upon you. There is so much to be
discussed--"
Again Phil Abingdon looked up into his face. "I have forced
myself to come to see you to-day," she said, "because I realize
there is no service I can do poor dad so important as finding
out--"
"I understand," Harley interrupted, gently. "But--"
"No, no." Phil Abingdon shook her head rebelliously. "Please ask
me what you want to know. I came for that."
He met the glance of violet eyes, and understood something of
Doctor McMurdoch's helplessness. He found his thoughts again
wandering into strange, wild byways and was only recalled to the
realities by the dry, gloomy voice of the physician. "Go on, Mr.
Harley," said Doctor McMurdoch. "She has grand courage."
CHAPTER VII. CONFESSIONS
Paul Harley crossed the room and stood in front of the tall
Burmese cabinet. He experienced the utmost difficulty in adopting
a judicial attitude toward his beautiful visitor. Proximity
increased his mental confusion. Therefore he stood on the
opposite side of the office ere beginning to question her.
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