He was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in!" he called, without turning his head.
He heard the door open and shut. After a moment he looked around.
Kendrick Bishop stood watching him.
Orde lit the gas.
"Hello, Kendrick!" said he. "Sit down." The boy made no reply.
Orde looked at him curiously, and saw that he was suffering from an
intense excitement. His frame trembled convulsively, his lips were
white, his face went red and pale by turns. Evidently he had
something to say, but could not yet trust his voice. Orde sat down
and waited.
"You've got to let my mother alone," he managed to say finally.
"I have done nothing to your mother, Kendrick," said Orde kindly.
"You've brought her to the point of death," asserted Keudrick
violently. "You're hounding her to her grave. You're turning those
she loves best against her."
Orde thought to catch the echo of quotation in these words.
"Did your mother send you to me?" he asked.
"If we had any one else worth the name of man in the family, I
wouldn't have to come," said Kendrick, almost in the manner of one
repeating a lesson.
"What do you want me to do?" asked Orde after a moment of thought.
"Go away," cried Kendrick.
Pages:
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249