"I'd be afraid to, alone, and mother has such a headache that she can't come downstairs. Will you stay in the room with me?" and she looked appealingly at Larry.
"I'm afraid if I did Sullivan wouldn't talk. He knows me, and imagines I have done him a wrong,
which I have not. I believe he considers me his enemy. He would probably go away without saying anything if you met him in my presence."
"But you don't need to be actually present," said Grace, with sudden inspiration. "Look here, this is a little alcove," and she pulled aside a hanging curtain and showed a recess in the library wall. "You can stand in there, and hear whatever he has to say. I'd feel safer if you were near. Of course there's Peterson, but he's so queer, and I don't like the servants to hear too much about poor father's disappearance. Will you stay here and be at hand in case I want you?"
"Of course I will," replied Larry after a moment's hesitation. "I have no idea that Sullivan will annoy you. He's too much of a politician for that. And I may be able to get a clue from what he says, though I don't imagine he knows where Mr. Potter is."
"Then I'll see him," decided Grace. "Peterson," she called.
"Yes, miss."
"You may show Mr. Sullivan in here."
"In here, miss?" and the butler looked at Larry.
"I said in here."