“Nothing,” Duncan pulled himself together and finally got his bearings. “Where can I find a taxi?”
“At the Shoreham, that way,” waving his arm, and Duncan walked in the direction indicated.
He was about to cross H Street and enter the hotel when Small’s window display across Fifteenth Street caught his attention, and he remembered promising to send Janet a bunch of violets to wear to the British Embassy. Entering the florist’s shop, he hastily gave his directions; then paused, and selected a beautiful corsage bouquet of single violets.
“I’ll take this also,” he said. “Send it to Miss Marjorie Langdon, care of Mr. Calderon Fordyce, same address as the other; and—eh—give me a blank card,” discovering he had none of his visiting cards with him. Taking the blank card which the attentive clerk brought him, he wrote: “With best wishes,” and signed his initials. Before placing the card in an envelope, he studied the message and his bold, distinctive writing in some doubt.
“Lord!” he muttered. “Will she take the ‘D. F.’ for Duncan Fordyce—or—damn fool.”
CHAPTER XIV
THE PHILANDERER
“So it’s off with the old love?”
“My dear Kathryn, it was never on,” Barnard looked squarely at the pretty nurse facing him, a faint trace of distress visible in his polished manner. “When I called to see my aunt, Mrs. Lawrence, I always showed you the civility and attention which I accord to any woman; that you chose to attach a deeper meaning——” he shrugged his shoulders. “I very deeply regret the—misunderstanding.”
Kathryn Allen’s gaze shifted from his face to the desk, and she saw the ornaments dimly through blinding tears.
“You repudiate——?” she asked huskily.