"Quite so," he said. "Do not excite yourself. I perceive the
impossibility. I can't have you attending to my wants, however
simple. Neither can I share the services of a secretary whose post,
I gather, is an honorary one. But I simply cannot go back to Mr.
Johnston's grin: so if you can put me up for the night--"
She had turned away again and was silent for so long that Spence
became uneasy. But at last she spoke.
"This is really too bad of father! He has never done anything quite
as absurd as this before. I don't quite see what he expected to get
out of it. He might know that you would not stay. He wouldn't want
you to stay. I can't understand--unless," her voice became crisp
with sudden enlightenment, "unless you were foolish enough to pay in
advance! Surely you did not do that?"
The professor was observing his boots in an abstracted way.
"I am afraid my feet are very wet," he remarked.
"They are. They are resting in at least an inch of water," she said
coldly. "But that isn't answering my question. Did you pay my father
anything in advance?"
The professor fidgeted.
"A small payment in advance is not very unusual," he offered.
"Especially if one's prospective host is anxious to add a few little
unaccustomed luxuries--"
"Yes, yes," she interrupted rudely. "I recognize the phrase!"
Without looking up he felt her wrathful gaze upon his face. "It
means that father has simply done you brown. Oh, well, it's your own
fault.
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