“Yes—but think of the scandal—” Hugh was not altogether appeased.
“That is something we cannot help,” the lawyer replied as his jaws snapped shut. “Be grateful to think you can save the boy! There are a certain amount of preliminaries necessary to go through, and then he can go home with you. Just a moment, before we go—I want to speak to these men,” indicating a couple of officers and detectives who had entered the room.
“I must arrange to send Elinor home.” Hugh mentioned his daughter for the first time, although the sight of her, when he had come into the room had almost taken the breath from his body.
It was a brilliant commentary on Hugh Benton’s attitude of mind that, as he sat before the telephone at this crisis in his life, maneuvering to save both son and daughter as well as to drown out as much as possible of the scandal that must ensue, that not even for one moment did he think of calling his wife to his aid. As he sat there nervously jangling the hook up and down, it was Geraldine DeLacy who was going through his mind. Geraldine! She loved him! She would come to him—would help him through. Only for a moment did the vision of Marjorie cross his mind, and then he dismissed her with a queer wry smile. In this, his time of trouble, he wanted Geraldine. To the woman he loved, and to her only, would he entrust his foolish daughter.
The sleeping butler at the Thurston home was not easily roused to answer the telephone. Even then, Benton had a difficult time in persuading him his business was of the most vital importance, and that he must awaken Mrs. DeLacy.
It seemed ages before a sleepy voice answered him. “Why—Hugh! What on earth do you mean at this hour in the morning. Why——”
“Geraldine, a terrible thing has happened!” The man’s voice trembled with earnestness. “I cannot tell you over the ’phone,” he went on, “but I want you to dress as quickly as you can, jump in a taxi and come here at once.” He gave her the address of the apartment.
“What place is that—and what do you want me for—what has happened?” she inquired in one breath.
“I can’t go into details now—all I can tell you is that Howard has killed—Templeton Druid. Don’t ask any questions—just come to me, dear—I need you.” His voice quivered more unmistakably.
“Great heavens!” For once Geraldine was all but speechless as she gasped. “I—I’ll come to you at once, dear.”