You wouldn't expect me to stay in bed for more than a day to
oblige a common, ordinary coach-dog, would you?"
"Yes, but see here--listen: Doctor Dillon has been here, and he is
perfectly shocked. He says there may be complications, and the very
least you can do is to be careful. Your father has had the hotel boys
looking everywhere for you. When are you coming back?"
Here was the direct question which Blount had been dreading. Now, if
never before, the wretched involvement had reached a point beyond which
it was impossible to follow his father's plea for a continuance of the
kinsman amenities.
"I think you had better leave me out of any plans you are making for the
day," he answered evasively. "I shall be pretty busy."
"No--listen," she insisted. "It's wrong to work on Sunday, but if you
will be obstinate, you must stop at luncheon-time. We are going to drive
out to Wartrace Hall this afternoon; Doctor Dillon says we positively
_must_ take you away from town and keep you quiet for a few days."
"I can't go with you," he answered brusquely, adding: "And I'm not sure
that I can join you at luncheon. There is so much to be done that I
shall probably drop around to the club for a bite at one o'clock. Don't
wait for me, and don't worry. Above all, please don't tell anybody where
I am--not even Dick Gantry.
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