Nor, if there were, have I the smallest inclination to
begin it. Nor, again, if I had, could I possibly take the time from My
Book."
She was silent a moment. "There is, of course, one way in which you
could find out at any moment."
"Indeed! What is that, pray?"
"Mr. Tim Queed."
He smiled faintly but derisively. "Hardly. Of course Tim knows all about
it. He told me once that he was present at the wedding of my parents;
another time that my mother died when I was born. But he would add, and
will add, not a word to these confidences; not even to assure me
definitely that my father is still alive. He says that he has sworn an
oath of secrecy. I called on him before I left New York. No, no; I may
discover my father or he may discover me, or not, but we can rest
absolutely assured that I shall get no help from Tim."
"But you can't mean simply to sit still--"
"And leave matters to him. I do."
"But--but," she still protested, "he is evidently unhappy Mr.
Queed--evidently counting on you for something--"
"Then let him come out like a man and say plainly what he wants.
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