"Almost--but not quite," Gregson caught him up. "Brokaw knows the
seriousness of the situation without that letter. See here, Phil--
you go out and fight, and let me handle this end of the business.
Don't reveal me to the Brokaws. I don't want to meet--her--yet,
though God knows if it wasn't for my confounded friendship for you
I'd go over there with you this minute. She was even more
beautiful than when I saw her--before."
"Then there is a difference," laughed Philip, meaningly.
"Not a difference, but a little better view," corrected the
artist.
"Now, if we could only find the other girl, what a mess you'd be
in, Greggy! By George, but this is beginning to have its humorous
as well as its tragic side. I'd give a thousand dollars to have
this other golden-haired beauty appear upon the scene!"
"I'll give a thousand if you produce her," retorted Gregson.
"Good!" laughed Philip, holding out a hand. "I'll report again
this afternoon or to-night."
Inwardly he felt himself in no humorous mood as he retraced his
steps to Churchill. He had thought to begin his work of clearing
up the puzzling situation with Gregson, and Gregson had failed him
completely by his persistence in the belief that Miss Brokaw was
the girl whose face he had seen more than a week before.
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