I was almost ready for bed when Jim tapped at my door. I had been
very cool to him since the night in the library when I was
publicly staked and martyred, and he was almost cringing when I
opened the door.
"What is it now?" I asked cruelly. "Has Bella tired of it
already, or has somebody else a rash?"
"Don't be a shrew, Kit," he said. "I don't want you to do
anything. I only--when did you see Harbison last?"
"If you mean 'last,'" I retorted, "I'm afraid I haven't seen the
last of him yet." Then I saw that he was really worried. "Betty
was leading him to the roof," I added. "Why? Is he missing?"
"He isn't anywhere in the house. Dal and I have been over every
inch of it." Max had come up, in a dressing gown, and was
watching me insolently.
"I think we have seen the last of him," he said. "I'm sorry, Kit,
to nip the little romance in the bud. The fellow was crazy about
you--there's no doubt of it. But I've been watching him from the
beginning, and I think I'm upheld. Whether he went down the water
spout, or across a board to the next house--"
"I--I dislike him intensely," I said angrily, "but you would not
dare to say that to his face. He could strangle you with one
hand."
Max laughed disagreeably.
"Well, I only hope he is gone," he threw at me over his shoulder,
"I wouldn't want to be responsible to your father if he had
stayed.
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