The Colonel looked steadily out of the window at the lights in Alexandra Park that twinkled through the trees for some moments in silence. Then he brought his eyes back to his companion’s face.
“So Eweretta’s death was worth thirty thousand pounds to this unlucky thirteenth man!”
Mrs. Barrimore’s eyes took a look of horror.
“Colonel! you don’t mean—you can’t mean that Thomas Alvin—oh! for God’s sake don’t say a word to Philip. It would drive him mad!”
Phyllis had struck a few chords on the piano. Philip was standing near the instrument ready to turn the pages of a song she was about to sing.
Uncle Robert had impolitely dropped off to sleep.
“Forgive me!” whispered the Colonel. “It was a foolish remark of mine. Of course, I shall say nothing to Philip. You look quite pale! I shall never forgive myself for expressing that thought aloud. Won’t you come out on the terrace? The cool air will do you good. Oh, what a blunderer I am!”
Mrs. Barrimore smiled bravely and rose. “Yes, I should like to get into the air,” she said.
CHAPTER IV
A COMPLICATION
The morning following the events of the last chapter, Philip was taking an early breakfast alone, preparatory to going into Robertson Street in quest of furniture for the bungalow. He was regretting that his purse was not longer. His mother’s income was not considerable either, for which reason Mr. Burns had elected to make one of the household, to give him the excuse to augment his sister’s income. (The excuse he gave was his loneliness.)