It was thrilling, vaguely pleasurable, but deep terror underlay
it.
"Your Excellency almost frightens me," she whispered. "Yet I do
not doubt that you speak of what you know."
"It is so," he returned, gravely. "At any hour, day or night, if
you care to make the request, I shall be happy to prove my words.
But," he lowered his dark lashes and then raised them again, "the
real object of my visit is concerned with more material things."
"Indeed," said Phil Abingdon, and whether because of the words of
Ormuz Khan, or because of some bond of telepathy which he had
established between them, she immediately found herself to be
thinking of Paul Harley.
"I bring you a message," he continued, "from a friend."
With eyes widely open, Phil Abingdon watched him.
"From," she began--but her lips would not frame the name.
"From Mr. Paul Harley," he said, inclining his head gravely.
"Oh! tell me, tell me!"
"I am here to tell you, Miss Abingdon. Mr. Harley feels that his
absence may have distressed you."
"Yes, yes," she said, eagerly.
"But in pursuit of a certain matter which is known to you, he has
found it necessary in the interests of his safety to remain out
of London for a while."
"Oh," Phil Abingdon heaved a great sigh. "Oh, Your Excellency,
how glad I am to hear that he is safe!"
The long, dark eyes regarded her intently, unemotionally, noting
that the flush had faded from her face, leaving it very pale, and
noting also the expression of gladness in her eyes, the quivering
of her sweet lips.
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