There was a pause; then the agitated voice said:
“A cable has come from the Bahamas.”
“The Bahamas! Well? Well?”
“Your poor father has—”
The voice failed.
“Oh, do tell me! For Heaven’s sake, what is it?”
“Your poor father is dead. Oh, Beryl!”
Miss Van Tuyn stood quite still for a moment.
“My father—dead!” she thought.
She felt surprised. She felt shocked. But she was not conscious of any real sorrow. She very seldom saw her father. Since he had married again—he had married a woman with whom he was very much in love—his strongly independent daughter had faded into the background of his life. Beryl had not set her eyes upon him during the last eighteen months. It was impossible that she could miss him much, a father with whom she had spent for years so little of her time. She knew that she would not miss him. Yet she had had a shock. After an instant she said: