“In confidence,” Tavernake repeated.
“I come here secretly,” the professor continued, “because it is the only chance I have of seeing a very dear relative of mine. I am obliged to keep away from her just now, but from here I can watch, I can see that she is well.”
“You mean your daughter Beatrice,” Tavernake said, calmly.
The professor trembled all over.
“You know!” he muttered.
“Yes, I know,” Tavernake answered. “I have been able to be of some slight assistance to your daughter Beatrice.”
The professor grasped his hand.
“Yes, yes,” he said, “Elizabeth is very angry with you because you will not tell her where to find the little girl. You are right, Mr. Tavernake. You must never tell her.”
“I don't intend it,” Tavernake declared.
“Say, this is a great evening for me!” the professor went on, eagerly. “I found out by accident myself. I was at the bar and I saw her come in with a lot of others.”