XII


As the sound of the furious voice stopped short, there fell a
stricken silence upon these three men.

Old Carson Tinker's gaze drifted downward from his employer's
face. He sat, then, gazing into the rosy little fire until
something upon the lapel of his coat caught his attention--a
wilted and disreputable carnation. He threw it into the fire;
and, with a sombre satisfaction, watched it sizzle. This brief
pleasure ended, he became expressionless and relapsed into
complete mummification.

Potter cleared his throat several times, and as many times
seemed about to speak, and did not; but finally, hearing a
murmur from the old man gazing at the fire, he requested to be
informed of its nature.

"What?" Tinker asked, feebly.

"I said: 'What are you mumbling about?'"

"Nothing."

"What was it you said?"

"I said it was the bride-look," said the old man gently. "That's
what it was about her--the bride-look."