Did Sampson start--did his eyes show a fleeting glint--did his face
almost imperceptibly blanch? I could not have sworn to either. But there
was a change, maybe from surprise.
The first sure effect of my announcement came in a quick exclamation
from Wright, a sibilant intake of breath, that did not seem to denote
surprise so much as certainty. Wright might have emitted a curse with
less force.
Sampson moved his hand significantly and the action was a voiceless
command for silence as well as an assertion that he would attend to this
matter. I read him clearly so far. He had authority, and again I felt
his power.
"Steele to see me. Did he state his business?"
"No, sir." I replied.
"Russ, say I'm not at home," said Sampson presently, bending over to
relight his pipe.
I went out. Someone slammed the door behind me.
As I strode back across the porch my mind worked swiftly; the machinery
had been idle for a while and was now started.
"Mr. Steele," I said, "Colonel Sampson says he's not at home. Tell your
business to his daughter."
Without waiting to see the effect of my taking so much upon myself, I
knocked upon the parlor door. Miss Sampson opened it. She wore white.
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