"Frank!" she protested. "Frank!"
But Frank remained smilingly unrepentant.
"I don't care," he cried. "I don't care if the whole——"
He broke off with a scared look in the midst of his smile. Phyllis was pointing across at the house. The glass entrance doors had just swung to, and a man-servant was rapidly coming toward them.
"It's—it's about—Monica!" Phyllis exclaimed, in a sudden panic.
The man addressed himself to Frank.
"Mr. Hendrie would like to see you at once, sir. He's in the library now—waiting."
Frank looked into the man's inscrutable face in anxious inquiry.
"Is there—has there been any word of—Mrs. Hendrie—yet?" he questioned sharply.
The man's sigh was in perfect order with his training.