He hesitated for a moment, and then quickly walked out of the room.
As he descended the stairs sweet strains of music reached him from the band playing in the dining-room. They came to him as a fitting accompaniment to her parting words, lingering in his memory. When Mr. Tyler met his friend in the foyer he saw a face transfigured in a new light and wearing a smile of ineffable happiness.
Tyler was a man of the world and drew his own conclusions. Ah—the old, old story! Well, he thought, good luck to you, my boy; but aloud he remarked to Morton that they had but very little time in which to catch the Ostend Express.
End of Book One
BOOK II
CHAPTER XVI
THE express for Ostend was punctual to the minute, and John ensconced himself in the luxurious seat of his compartment, glad to be alone with his thoughts, alone for the first time in many weeks. As he took a mental survey of what had happened in the past three weeks, it seemed to him as if he had lately lost his identity. Instead of John Randolph Morton, he had been some soldier of fortune. It was indeed time he came back to himself, for the latest advice from home had been very disquieting. His father had been badly shaken in an elevator accident and, although no bones were broken, yet coming on a previous illness, his condition might, any day, be serious.