"I'd have given a
year's income for your opportunity to-night, Jason."
"Yes, sir," said Jason helplessly.
"Well, go on," prompted Jimmie Dale. "You told her I wasn't home, and
she said she knew it, didn't she? And she left the letter that I was on
no account to miss receiving when I got back, though there was no need
of telephoning me to the club--when I returned would do, but it was
imperative that I should have it then--eh?"
"Good Lord, sir!" ejaculated Jason, his jaw dropped, "that's exactly what
she did say."
"Jason," said Jimmie Dale grimly, "listen to me. If ever she comes here
again, inveigle her in. If you can't inveigle her, use force; capture
her, pull her in, do anything--do anything, do you hear? Only don't let
her get away from you until I've come."
Jason gazed at his master as though the other had lost his reason.
"Use force, sir?" he repeated weakly--and shook his head. "You--you
can't mean that, sir."
"Can't I?" inquired Jimmie Dale, with a mirthless smile. "I mean every
word of it, Jason--and if I thought there was the slightest chance of
her giving you the opportunity, I'd be more imperative still. As it
is--where's the letter?"
"On the table in your studio, sir," said Jason, mechanically.
Jimmie Dale started toward the stairs--then turned and came back to
where Jason, still shaking his head heavily, had been gazing anxiously
after his master.
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