He always awoke with alert
mind and refreshed body.
"What is it? Not--"
Gora nodded. "At two this morning. Alexina wouldn't let me call you--"
His wide masculine eyebrows met. It was correct to be angry and he was. "I
never heard of such a thing--"
"She was not a bit overcome and wrote letters to her brothers and friends
for at least two hours. It really wouldn't have been worth while to disturb
you--I must say I was astonished; thought she'd go to pieces--but you never
know."
"I'll go to her at once."
"I'd dress first. Aileen Lawton is with her."
Gora knew that Alexina had gone out at four in the morning and returned
half an hour since, but the cat in her was of the tiger variety and never
descended to small game.
"Oh, of course!" Mortimer gave a groan of resignation as he hunted out a
pair of black socks. "I like Aileen well enough, but she has altogether too
much influence over Alexina. She'd have more than myself if I didn't keep a
close watch."
"I have an idea that no one will have much influence over Alexina as time
goes on. She hasn't that jaw and chin for nothing. They mean things in some
people."
He gave her a quick suspicious glance, but her pale gray eyes were fixed on
the windmill beyond the window, that odd old landmark in a now fashionable
quarter of San Francisco.
"I shall always control her," he said, setting his large finely cut lips.
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