There had been no signs of him in the house. There
were no signs of him about the grounds. It was not like him to
have taken a walk, but it seemed the only possibility. She went
back to the house to wait. Eight o'clock came, and nine, and it
was then the truth dawned upon her--Nutty had escaped. He had
slipped away and gone up to New York.
6
Lord Dawlish sat in the New York flat which had been lent him by
his friend Gates. The hour was half-past ten in the evening; the
day, the second day after the exodus of Nutty Boyd from the farm.
Before him on the table lay a letter. He was smoking pensively.
Lord Dawlish had found New York enjoyable, but a trifle fatiguing.
There was much to be seen in the city, and he had made the mistake
of trying to see it all at once. It had been his intention, when
he came home after dinner that night, to try to restore the
balance of things by going to bed early. He had sat up longer than
he had intended, because he had been thinking about this letter.
Immediately upon his arrival in America, Bill had sought out a
lawyer and instructed him to write to Elizabeth Boyd, offering her
one-half of the late Ira Nutcombe's money. He had had time during
the voyage to think the whole matter over, and this seemed to him
the only possible course.
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