His eyes were fixed upon the
servant. He said nothing. He only waited.
"A young American lady!" Mr. Deane repeated slowly. "Have you seen her
before?"
"I believe, sir," the man answered, "that it is the same young lady who
came here some weeks ago to inquire after Mr. Norris Vine."
Phineas Duge was on his feet with a sudden soft, half-stifled
exclamation. Mr. Deane looked around the table. His other guests were
all talking amongst themselves. Littleson, ignorant of what this might
mean, was looking a little bewildered. The ambassador addressed one of
the men a little lower down the table.
"Sinclair," he said, "will you take my place for a moment? A little
matter of business has turned up, and I am wanted. I shall not be
away long."
The man addressed nodded, and, pushing back his chair, strolled toward
the ambassador's vacant seat, his cigar in his mouth. Phineas Duge and
Mr. Deane left the room together, and close behind them Littleson
followed. They left the room without any appearance of haste, but once
in the hall Phineas Duge showed signs of a rare impatience, and pushed
his way on ahead. The door of the waiting-room was half open.
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