Hound! I would crush him!
My thoughts ran rapidly backward. I remembered how zealous he had been
in following Miss Raynor's yacht. He had told me of his conversations
with Sylvia, but what reason had I to believe he spoke the truth? That
any man should have loved these two women filled me with rage. That that
man should be Walkirk was an insupportable thought. I was not only
jealous but I felt myself the victim of a treacherous insult.
It was seven o'clock when I reached Washington, but, although I had
arrived at my destination, I could give no thought to the object of my
journey until I had discovered the truth about Walkirk. That was
all-important.
But of whom should I inquire? I could think of no one but Miss Laniston.
I had been a fool not to ask her the name of the man when I was with
her. But I would telegraph to her now, and ask for it. She might be
asleep at that hour, but I believed she was a woman who would awake and
answer my question and then go to sleep again.
I immediately went to the telegraph office, and sent this message: "What
is the name of the man of whom we spoke last evening? It is necessary
that I know it. Please answer at once." She would understand this. We
had spoken of but one man.
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