"If you can arrange it with Mr.
Poindexter, you will find me a liberal vendor. That much you can do,
and I know you will believe I shall be grateful. You can do no more,
unless it be to say to your friends that Mrs. Belle Tucker remains here
only for that purpose, and to carry out what she knows to be the wishes
of her husband." She paused, bent her pretty crest, dropped a quaint
curtsey to the superior age, the silver braid, and the gentlemanly
bearing of Don Jose, and with the passing sunshine of a smile
disappeared from the corridor.
The two men remained silent for a moment, Don Jose gazing abstractedly
on the door through which she had vanished, until Poindexter, with a
return of his tolerant smile, said, "You have heard the views of Mrs.
Tucker. You know the situation as well as she does."
"Ah, yes; possibly better."
Poindexter darted a quick glance at the grave, sallow face of Don Jose,
but detecting no unusual significance in his manner, continued, "As you
see, she leaves this matter in my hands. Let us talk like business men.
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