A Variety of Weapons. Rufus King

      “Ann, it is hard for me to believe that that is all that Justin said.”

      “He did add that this trickery was all for my own good. Is he sane?”

      “Perfectly. Justin is one of the sanest and most brokenhearted men on earth. As for why he wanted you up here, I haven’t the right to tell you. Only he can do that.”

      Then Dr. Johnson was back with them and saying to Estelle, “Not yet. I remain astonished at his stamina. Miss Ledrick?”

      “Yes, Doctor?”

      “Mr. Marlow asked me to say that he would resume his talk with you later. I believe he will be strong enough to do so toward five this afternoon.”

      “I will have returned to New York by then, Doctor.”

      “Oh? I gathered that you were staying for a while. Well, I shall drop in later, Miss Marlow. Good-by, Miss Ledrick.”

      “Good-by, Doctor.”

      Dr. Johnson opened the door, and Ann saw, standing in the hallway, the heavy figure of Ludwig Appleby. Appleby waited until the doctor had passed and then came in.

      He said to Estelle, “How is he?”

      “Better, Ludwig. But you know.”

      “Yes, I know. And good morning, Miss Ledrick.”

      “Good morning, Mr. Appleby.”

      His prominent dark eyes were lively with speculation. “Washburn tells me that Justin sent for you to come to him as well as for Estelle.”

      “Yes.”

      “You know, I find that very interesting.”

      “I found it so too, Mr. Appleby. I am returning to New York this morning.”

      “Are you?” Appleby waited until a crash of thunder had subsided. Then he said, “How?”

      “That’s it, my dear,” Estelle said equably. “Of course if you insist we’ll arrange for a plane to take you at the earliest possible moment.” Her eyes turned vaguely toward rain-sheeted windows. “These storms are tiresome things, Ann. They last so long.”