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done, my dear!" "Thank you, John," she said, with a sinking heart. "Not at all." When they reached the side doorway, he went quickly and quietly in. Dean Silver, sauntering around from the front garden, met her. He had his watch in his hand. The gray car was waiting in the drive. "If we have to make Glen Mary to-night, Mrs. Bannister," he began. "And I want your answer to my wife's invitation," he added, with a concerned and curious look at her agitated face. "Oh, Mr. Silver," she said unhappily, "I can't come and visit you--it's all been a mistake--I think I must have been crazy last night! I'm so sorry--but things can't be changed now, I want you to take him away--to sail up the Nile--if you really are going--" "My dear girl," the man said patiently, "he hasn't the faintest idea of sailing with me--I wish to the Lord he had!" "He said he would," she said lifelessly. "Dryden did?" Silver turned upon her suddenly. "Yes, he just said he would." "DRYDEN?" "Yes." Martie picked a dead marguerite from a bush, and crumbled it in her fingers. "When did he?" "Just now." Dean Silver looked keenly at her face and shook his head bewilderedly. "You are really going through with it, then?" "Oh, yes, I must!" she answered feverishly. And she added: "I want to!" "I see you want to!" the novelist said drily. And his voice had lost its brotherly, affectionate tone when he added: "Very well, then, if you two have settled it between you, I will not presume to interfere, I was going down to the city to-morrow to see about reservations; if Dryden means it--of course it alters the entire aspect of affairs to me!" "Oh, don't use that tone!" she said agitatedly, "I didn't ask him to come here--I never encouraged him--why, I never thought of him! Am I to blame?" "Look here," said Silver suddenly. "You can't fool me. You know you love him!" Martie did not answer. Her colour had faded, and she looked pale and tired. She dropped her eyes Pity suddenly filled his own. "I'm sorry!" the man said quickly; "I'm awfully sorry. I'll help you if I can. He may buck the last moment, but perhaps he won't. And you think it over. Think it all over. And if you send me a wire one minute before the boat sails--that'll be time enough! We'll come back. I'll keep you informed--and for God's sake, wire if you can!" "We'll leave it that way," Martie said gratefully. "I believe you'll wire," Silver said, with anoth
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