"Pardon me, if I ask you to explain your object as briefly as possible.
I have much to do this evening, and my time is hardly my own."
Waring gazed fixedly at the speaker for a few seconds before he replied.
Like most of his profession, he was an acute physiognomist, and in that
brief space he fathomed much of the character of the man who had rivaled
him successfully. He confessed honestly to himself that there were
grounds, if not excuse, for Cecil's infatuation; but he shrank from
thinking of the danger which she had escaped so narrowly.
"Yes, I will be as brief as possible," Mark answered at length. "Neither
of us will be tempted to prolong this interview unnecessarily. I have
promised to deliver a letter to you, and when you have read it I shall
have but very few words to say."
A stronger proof than Keene had ever yet given of superhuman control
over his emotions was the fact that, neither by quivering of eyelid,
change of color, or motion of muscle, did he betray the faintest
astonishment or concern as he took the letter from Waring, and
recognized Cecil's hand on the cover. It was not a long epistle, for it
scarcely extended beyond two sides of a note-sheet.
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