No. I don't know any Mr. Law. You sure you got the name right?"
"Say he name Law," Gertrude replied, looking at the ceiling to express her fatigue. "Law. 'S all he tell me; 's all I know."
Adams frowned. "Law," he said. "Wasn't it maybe 'Lohr?'"
"Law," Gertrude repeated. 'S all he tell me; 's all I know."
"What's he look like?"
"He ain't much," she said. "'Bout you' age: got brustly white moustache, nice eye-glasses."
"It's Charley Lohr!" Adams exclaimed. "I'll go see what he wants."
"But, Virgil," his wife remonstrated, "do finish your coffee; he might stay all evening. Maybe he's come to call."
Adams laughed. "He isn't much of a caller, I expect. Don't worry: I'll take him up to my room." And turning toward Russell, "Ah—if you'll just excuse me," he said; and went out to his visitor.
When he had gone, Mrs. Adams finished her coffee, and, having glanced intelligently from her guest to her daughter, she rose. "I think perhaps I ought to go and shake hands with Mr. Lohr, myself," she said
