“Well, not much, I confess. I was in such a hurry to hear whether anything had been heard of Mrs. Atkins or not that I only gulped down a cup of coffee before coming here.”
“You must have something at once,” I urged. “Here’s some beefsteak and I’ll ring for the boy to——”
“Hold on a moment. Are you very sure the hatchet is buried?” he inquired, with a quizzical smile.
“For the time being, certainly,” I laughed. “But I reserve the right of digging it up again unless things turn out as I wish them to.”
A sad look came over his face.
“Ah, Doctor, things so rarely do turn out just as one wishes them to!”
“And now, Merritt,” I demanded, when, breakfast being over, we had lighted our cigars, “will you kindly tell me what made you talk as you did yesterday to Miss Derwent?”
“I had a purpose.”
“What possible good could it do to remind Miss Derwent of an incident which all her friends are most anxious to have her forget?”
“It may do no good.”