I am coming here to-morrow, and
I have a different plan in my head that I think will suit better. Wait
until to-morrow, Mollie, and trust me."
His eyes flashed with an electric fire that thrilled the girl through.
What did he mean? But Mr. Ingelow had sprung into the carriage again and
was gone.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CRICKET'S HUSBAND.
Mr. Carl Walraven sat alone in his private room in a Broadway hotel,
smoking an after-breakfast cigar, and looking lazily at the stream of
people hurrying up and down. It was the morning following Miriam's
funeral, of which he, of course, had heard nothing. He had left the city
after his interview with his wife, and had but just returned. He had not
gone home, but he had notified Mr. Sardonyx of his presence in town, and
signified that that gentleman was to wait upon him immediately.
Pending his arrival, Mr. Walraven sat and smoked, and stared at the
passers-by, and wondered, with an internal chuckle, how Mme. Blanche
felt by this time, and whether Mollie was lonely or not, shut up in the
deserted mansion.
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