Fin made a grimace, and then, as if in spite of herself, her bright eyes beamed on him for a moment ere she withdrew them.
“And now tell me this,” whispered Pratt; “if they say any more to you about Landells, or if he speaks to you, you’ll—you’ll—you’ll—”
“There, good-bye!” cried Fin. “How can you be such a goose? I haven’t patience with you—good-bye.”
There was a look accompanying that good-bye that sent a thrill through Frank Pratt, and he went back to his musty briefs as light as if treading on air.
On reaching his chambers, though, it was to find Barnard, the solicitor, waiting for him.
“Well, what news?” was Pratt’s greeting.
“Nothing more,” was the reply. “I’ve sent, and I’ve been myself. That this Vanleigh has compromised himself in some way, so that his marriage is impossible, I feel convinced; but a solution of the matter can only come from one pair of lips.”
“Well?”
“And they remain obstinately silent.”