He paused with his hand on the knob.
"Dad, come here."
He came back reluctantly.
"We're to go away quietly, you know, without telling any one; there's to be no fuss—we couldn't bear that—"
A tap on the door interrupted her. Rushford opened it. A man stood without, a German with complexion like mahogany. He bowed silently and handed in a note. Rushford took it and closed the door.
"It's from Markeld," he said, looking at the crest; "thought he hadn't made his case quite emphatic enough, I guess," and he glanced at Susie's blushing face and smiled. "Of course, we'll have to tell him," he added, as he tore open the envelope and unfolded the sheet of paper it contained. "He has a sort of right—"
He stopped.
Susie saw his face turn gray again…. A great fear fell upon her heart—a cold, still fear that gripped her and left her shivering.
"What is it, dad?" she asked quietly, through clenched teeth.
"Nothing," answered her father, looking at her vaguely. "It's nothing.
It's—it's merely a matter of business, Susie."