"I hear," he said calmly.
But as he grew calm, Mr. Samuel Wright's embarrassment became more
agonizing, nor was it lessened by the very old man's quite obvious
interest in it; his head, in its brown wig, was inclined a little to
one side, like a canary's, and his black eyes helped out the
likeness--except that there was a carefully restrained gleam of humor
in
them. But he said nothing. To cover up the clamorous silence between
father and son, Dr. Lavendar talked a good deal, but rather at random.
He was confounded by the situation. Had he made a mistake, after all,
in
insisting upon this interview? In his own mind he was asking for
wisdom, but aloud he spoke of the weather. His host gave no
conversational assistance except an occasional monosyllable, and his
senior warden was absolutely dumb. As for the subject which brought
them together, no further reference was made to it.
"Take some more whiskey, Dominic," said Mr. Wright. His eyes were
glittering; it was evident that he did not need any more himself.
Dr. Lavendar said, "No, thank you," and rose. Samuel shot up as though
a spring had been released.
"Going?" said Benjamin Wright; "a short call, considering how long it
is since we've met;--Lavendar."
Samuel cleared his throat. "'Night," he said huskily. Again there was
no hand-shaking; but as they reached the front door, Benjamin Wright
called to Dr.
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