He had two or three others in his mind, by this time; the boy was merely added to the list of possibilities.
Mershone was a capital actor.

After luncheon he sauntered about the hotel, stared from the window for a time, looked at his watch once or twice with an undecided air, and finally stepped to the porter and asked him to call a cab.

He started for Central Park; then changed his mind and ordered the man to drive him to the Von Taer residence, where on arrival Diana at once ordered him shown into her private parlor.
The young man found his cousin stalking up and down in an extremely nervous manner.

She wrung her delicate fingers with a swift, spasmodic motion.

Her eyes, nearly closed, shot red rays through their slits.
"What's wrong, Di ?" demanded Mershone, considerably surprised by this intense display of emotion on the part of his usually self-suppressed and collected cousin.
"Wrong!" she echoed; "everything is wrong.