“What time was this?”
“About half past nine. Drukker had already gone when Robin and Sperling called.”
“Was it unusual, Professor Dillard,” asked Vance, “for Mr. Arnesson to be away on Saturday mornings?”
The old professor looked up sharply, and there was a brief hesitation before he answered.
“Not unusual exactly; although he’s generally here on Saturdays. But this morning he had some important research work to do for me in the faculty library. . . . Arnesson,” he added, “is working with me on my next book.”[8]
There was a short silence; then Markham spoke.
“You said this morning that both Robin and Sperling were suitors for Miss Dillard’s hand. . . .”
“Uncle!” The girl sat upright in her chair and turned angry, reproachful eyes upon the old professor. “That wasn’t fair.”
“But it was true, my dear.” His voice was noticeably tender.
“It was true—in a way,” she admitted. “But there was no need of mentioning it. You know, as well as they did, how I regarded them. We were good friends—that was all. Only last night, when they were here together, I told them—quite plainly—that I wouldn’t listen to any more silly talk of marriage from either of them. They were only boys . . . and now one of them’s gone. . . . Poor Cock Robin!” She strove bravely to stifle her emotion.