At that moment the door opened and a young woman came into the room, who was tall, slender, graceful, excellently dressed, and bore herself with an air as if she knew that she was someone. She looked at Rothenstein, and then she said:
“So you are here.” Then to Stewart, “Any news of the pearls?” She added as if it were a postscript, “I’ve been to see Hugh Beckwith; I believe he’s dying.”
CHAPTER XXVII
CALLERS
THE girl sat up in bed; Miss Galstin sat on a chair at her side; Mr. Stewart, who seemed restless, was fidgeting about the room. Conversation hung fire, especially at first. Neither of the visitors seemed to know exactly what to say; or, knowing, how to say it. They received no assistance from the invalid, who, with her hands clasped outside the coverlet, looked steadily in front
