He wondered if they were giving Maud her
afternoon tea, and then choked up with a sudden pity for the
terrified captive. It was all he could do to keep from jumping up and
ordering the operator to drop everything and take a message
countermanding his inhuman instructions to those asses in Paris.
Tears gushed from his eyes. He brushed them away angrily and tried to
convince himself that it served Maud right for being so obstinate.
Still the tears came. The corners of his mouth drooped and his chin
began to quiver. It was too much! The poor child was--
But just then the operator sat back with a sigh of relief, mopped his
brow, and said:
"Good thing you're a rich man, Mr. Blithers. It came collect and--"
"Never mind," blurted Mr. Blithers. "Hand it over."
There were four sheets of writing at some outlandish price per word,
but what cared he? He wanted to get back to his stateroom and his
cipher code as quickly--but his eyes almost started from his head as
he took in the name at the bottom of the message. It was "Maud.
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