"She's coming rather unexpectedly to make me an extended visit. I should deem it quite an honor, David, if you would give us the pleasure of your company some evening for dinner—"
"My stay here is to be very brief, Colonel Grand, and my time is entirely taken up," said David coldly.
"I'm sorry," said the Colonel, shrugging his shoulders in self-commiseration.
It was on the tip of David's tongue to ask him if he knew of Thomas Braddock's presence in town, but timely reflection convinced him that it would be unwise. The Colonel, in his alarm, might set about to have Braddock hunted down and confined without delay; and there was no telling what crime he would lay at Braddock's door in order to secure long imprisonment.
"I met your wife, also, at the Springs," said David, coolly substituting the thrust.
The Colonel frowned slightly. "You are doubtless aware that my wife and I are no longer living together," he said, his lips straightening.
"I have heard something to that effect," said David easily,—so easily that the other could not mistake the insolence of the remark.
Grand flushed. "I am happy to say, young man, that my train is pulling in. I must therefore deny myself the pleasure of conversing with you any longer. Good-day, sir."
He did not bow as he turned away. A moment later he was threading his way through the crowd. David sauntered over to his first place of waiting, a smile on his lips. He was immensely relieved now, and not a little ashamed of a certain unworthy suspicion.
He fixed his eager gaze on the throng of people that came up from the train, pouring into the big waiting-room. First, he saw Roberta Grand as she came rushing up to her father. He was struck by the swift change that came over the Colonel's face, who stared in amazement over the girl's shoulder, even as he embraced her. David allowed his gaze to return to the oncoming crowd.