Everybody being busy--too busy to answer questions outside of
payments and deposits--Patrick, the porter, must necessarily
conduct the negotiations.
"No, sur; he's not down to-day--" was the ever-watchful Patrick's
answer to Jack's anxious inquiry. "His sister's come from the
country and he takes a day off now and thin when she's here.
You'll find him up at his place in Fifteenth Street, I'm thinkin."
Jack bit his lip. Here was another complication. Not to find Peter
at the Bank meant a visit to his rooms--on his holiday, too--and
when he doubtless wished to be alone with Miss Felicia. And yet
how could he wait a moment longer? He himself had sent word to the
office of Breen & Co. that he would not be there that day--a thing
he had never done before--nor did he intend to go on the morrow--
not until he knew where he stood. While his uncle had grossly
misunderstood him, and, for that matter, grossly insulted him, he
had neither admitted nor denied the outrage on Gilbert.
When he did--this question had only now begun to loom up--where
would he go and what would he do? There was but little money due
him at the office--and none would come--until the next month's
pay--hardly enough, in any event, to take him back to his
Maryland home, even if that refuge were still open to him.
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