It came to him that there was no one in the world
less sure of her business just at that moment than Olive Chancellor; it
was as if he could see, through the door, the terrible way her eyes were
fixed on Verena while she held her watch in her hand and Verena looked
away from her. Olive would have been so thankful that she should begin
before the hour, but of course that was impossible. Ransom asked no
questions--that seemed a waste of time; he only said, after a minute, to
the policeman:
"I should like very much to see Miss Tarrant, if you will be so good as
to take in my card."
The guardian of order, well planted just between him and the handle of
the door, took from Ransom the morsel of pasteboard which he held out to
him, read slowly the name inscribed on it, turned it over and looked at
the back, then returned it to his interlocutor. "Well, I guess it ain't
much use," he remarked.
"How can you know that? You have no business to decline my request."
"Well, I guess I have about as much business as you have to make it."
Then he added, "You are just the very man she wants to keep out."
"I don't think Miss Tarrant wants to keep me out," Ransom returned.
"I don't know much about her, she hasn't hired the hall. It's the other
one--Miss Chancellor; it's her that runs this lecture."
"And she has asked you to keep me out? How absurd!" exclaimed Ransom
ingeniously.
"She tells me you're none too fit to be round alone; you have got this
thing on the brain.
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