Already a "Special" was being sold on the streets, and in big black
letters she read of the alarming illness of Phineas Duge. She had left
both his secretaries, young men with whom as yet she had exchanged only
a few words, hard at work opening letters and answering telegrams. She
alone was free from all anxiety, for she had had a few words with her
uncle before she came out, and at her entrance the languor of the sick
man disappeared at once, and he had spoken to her with something of the
enjoyment of a boy enjoying a huge joke.
She paused every now and then to look in the shop windows, and make a
few purchases. Then, just as she was leaving a store, and hesitating for
a moment which way to continue her walk, a man stopped suddenly before
her and raised his hat. It was Stephen Weiss, gaunt, ill-dressed, easily
recognizable. He was evidently glad to see her.
"This is real good fortune, Miss Longworth," he said, holding her hand
in his, as though afraid that she might slip away. "I have just left
your house, but I couldn't seem to get hold of anything very definite
about this sudden attack of your uncle's."
"I know very little about it myself," Virginia answered.
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