“You remember, sir, that I was going out tonight. You said that nine o’clock would be all right.”
“I recall it, Larkin. Go along, go along! Where is Miss Margaret?”
“I think she has gone out, sir. To call on some friends, I believe.”
“That’s good!” Glendenning rejoined. “Time she ended her moping. She hasn’t been out of the place more than a couple of times during the past month.”
“Of course, sir,” said the secretary, “if you think that it’s not best for you to be left alone—”
“Rubbish!” declared the old man fiercely. “I wanted you to go out. I said so. And I told Miss Margaret to go out tonight. I’ve been telling her that every night. I want to be alone once in a while. And, Larkin—”
The secretary turned as he was starting for the door.
“What is it, sir?”
“Take the bells off the telephones. Downstairs and up. I don’t want to be annoyed. Somebody may call up about some useless matter. Wanting to know if I have seen Buchanan — or that detective, Hasbrouck. I don’t want to hear either of them mentioned. I’ve had enough of it! Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”