So I came
over here to ask you, if you don't mind, not to mention it when
you get in touch with the governor. I frankly admit that that
letter, written with the best intentions, was a bloomer.'
With which manly admission the young man paused, and allowed the
rays of his eyeglass to play upon Elizabeth in silence. Elizabeth
tried to piece together what little she understood of his
monologue.
'You mean that you want me not to tell your father that I got a
letter from you?'
'Exactly that. And thanks very much for not saying "without
prejudice," or anything of that kind. The governor would have.'
'But I don't understand. Why should you think that I should ever
mention anything to your father?'
'Might slip out, you know, without your meaning it.'
'But when? I shall never meet your father.'
'You might quite easily. He might want to see you about the
money.'
'The money?'
The eyebrow above the eyeglass rose, surprised.
'Haven't you had a letter from the governor?'
'No.'
The young man made a despairing gesture.
'I took it for granted that it had come on the same boat that I
did. There you have the governor's methods! Couldn't want a better
example. I suppose some legal formality or other has cropped up
and laid him a stymie, and he's waiting to get round it.
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