The woman's face clouded in spite of her effort at self-control:
"It may be a month or more."
"Oh, I'm so anxious to see him! He has been acting for my old guardian, who is somewhere abroad, ever since I can remember. I've begged and begged him to come to see me, but he never came. It was so far away, I suppose. He never even sent me his picture, though I've asked him often. What sort of a man is he?"
Cleo smiled and hesitated, and then spoke with apparent carelessness:
"A very striking looking man."
"With a kind face?"
"A very stern one, clean shaven, with deep set eyes, a firm mouth, a strong jaw that can be cruel when he wishes, a shock of thick iron gray hair, tall, very tall and well built. He weighs two hundred and fifteen now—he was very thin when young."
"And his voice?"
"Gentle, but sometimes hard as steel when he wishes it to be."
"Oh, I'll be scared to death when I see him! I had pictured him just the opposite."