... But if there is anything I can do for you----"
"I should like to know something at first hand of the history of the
school, its--well, prestige, special advantages, curriculum, and so on,"
Dundee began deprecatingly.
"I should certainly be able to answer any question you may wish to ask,
Mr. Randolph, since I have been with the school for fifteen years," Miss
Earle interrupted tartly.
"Then Forsyte must take younger pupils than I had been led to believe,
Miss Earle," Dundee said, with his most winning smile.
"I was never a pupil here," the secretary corrected him, but she thawed
visibly. "Of course, I was a mere child when I finished business school,
but I _have_ been here fifteen years--fifteen years of watching rich
society girls dawdle away four or five years, just because they've got
to be _somewhere_ before they make their debut.... But I mustn't talk
like that, or I'll give you a wrong impression, Mr. Randolph. Of its
kind, it is really a very fine school--very exclusive; riding masters,
dancing masters, a golf 'pro' and our own golf course, native teachers
for French, Italian, German and Spanish.... Oh, the _school_ is all
right, and will probably not suffer any loss of prestige on account of
that dreadful murder out in the Middle West----"
"Murder?" Dundee echoed, as if he had no idea what she was talking
about.
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