He dozed off
at six, but was wide awake before seven, when he arose and partook of
a hurried, half-eaten breakfast. It was not likely that he would hear
from Dick Cronk before the middle of the forenoon. Until then he was
to be harassed by doubts and fears that would not be easy to suppress
in his present unquiet frame of mind. While he was obliged to stand
idle and impotent, the very foundation of all the future happiness of
the girl he loved might be irreparably shattered. Silent, deadly,
purposeful forces were working toward that end. Her mother would, no
doubt, prepare her in a way for the crash, but there always would be
the memory of the cruel blow that might have been prevented.
He crossed into Madison Square, taking a seat where he could watch the
entrance to his hotel, though the hour was so early that it seemed
sheer folly to expect Dick Cronk. A dozen times in the first half-hour
he looked at his watch. Would the hands never reach nine o'clock? He
knew that Dick would make his approach slyly. Perhaps if he returned
to his room he would find him there. It would not be an unusual
circumstance, he recalled.
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