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The House of the Falcon


Whereupon he emptied his cup with a sigh. Edith's drowsy eyes glowed and she glanced quickly, proudly at her father. Donovan aimed a covert kick at Fraser-Carnie which the major dodged. Only Arthur Rand remained grave.

"Edith, I haven't told you—we have lost all our money. I am bankrupt."

He was surprised to see how calmly he could say it and how little effect the announcement had on his daughter. Six months ago it would have broken his heart to confess as much. Here, with Edith restored to him and quite evidently in delighted possession of a tattered, unshaven officer, it seemed a thing of minor importance.

And to Edith herself six months ago the news would have been the collapse of the world about her ears and the loss of her birthright. Now, between mouthfuls of splendid biscuit, it was a meaningless detail of the world she had left long since.

"Yes, Edith," nodded Arthur Rand absently, "you must get away from this inhospitable place. The major will take you and Donovan back, I reckon. Donovan, I hear, has earned a rest on his own estates in England."

But his daughter was staring at Donovan uncomfortably.

"Estates?" She sat up accusingly. "Why—why, I thought you had no money, like me."

Donovan glared at Fraser-Carnie; then his brow cleared.

"I haven't, Edith. Because, of course, the family holdings should go to the wife of my brother."

"My dear chap!" the major observed. "But, of course, your uncle the curate——"

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