We
could not make out anything except a few scattered phrases which
told us nothing. Once I fancied he mentioned his mother. Whatever
it was that he was urging, Inez was firm.
"No, Alfonso," she repeated, her voice a little higher and
excited. "It cannot be. You must be mistaken."
She had risen, and now moved toward the hall door, evidently
forgetting that the folding doors behind the portieres were open.
"Professor Kennedy and Mr. Jameson are here," she said. "Would you
care to meet them?"
He replied in the negative. Yet as he passed the reception room he
could not help seeing us.
As Inez greeted us, I saw that Alfonso was making a desperate
effort to control his expression. He seemed to be concealing a
bitter disappointment. Seeing us, he bowed stiffly, and, with just
the murmur of a greeting, excused himself.
He had no sooner closed the door to run the gauntlet of the sharp
eyes in the hall than the Senorita faced us fully. She was pale
and nervous. Evidently something that he had said to her had
greatly agitated her. Yet with all her woman's skill she managed
to hide all outward traces of emotion that might indicate what it
was that racked her mind.
"You have something to report?" she asked, a trifle anxiously.
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