Luna, I don't care, I'm not going to let you off! We
want the last news about Miss Verena, and it has got to come out of this
house."
"Oh murder!" Ransom muttered, beneath his breath, taking up his hat.
"Miss Chancellor has hidden her away; I have been scouring the city in
search of her, and her own father hasn't seen her for a week. We have
got his ideas; they are very easy to get, but that isn't what we want."
"And what do you want?" Ransom was now impelled to inquire, as Mr.
Pardon (even the name at present came back to him) appeared sufficiently
to have introduced himself.
"We want to know how she feels about to-night; what report she makes of
her nerves, her anticipations; how she looked, what she had on, up to
six o'clock. Gracious! if I could see her I should know what I wanted,
and so would she, I guess!" Mr. Pardon exclaimed. "You must know
something, Mrs. Luna; it isn't natural you shouldn't. I won't inquire
any further where she is, because that might seem a little pushing, if
she does wish to withdraw herself--though I am bound to say I think she
makes a mistake; we could work up these last hours for her! But can't
you tell me any little personal items--the sort of thing the people
like? What is she going to have for supper? or is she going to
speak--a--without previous nourishment?"
"Really, sir, I don't know, and I don't in the least care; I have
nothing to do with the business!" Mrs. Luna cried angrily.
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