employed
Staff's American money to advantage. He wore, with the look of one fresh
from thorough grooming at a Turkish bath, a new suit of dark clothes.
But when he had thrown aside his soft felt hat, his face showed drawn,
pinched and haggard, the face of a man whose sufferings are of the
spirit rather than of the body. Loss of sleep might have accounted in
part for that expression, but not for all of it.
"What's the matter?" demanded Staff, deeply concerned.
"You ask me that!" said Iff impatiently. He threw himself at length upon
the divan. "Haven't you been to the St. Simon? Don't you _know_ what has
happened? Well, so have I, and so do I."
"Well ...?"
Iff raised himself on his elbow to stare at Staff as if questioning his
sanity.
"You know she's gone--that she's in _his_ hands--and you have the face
to stand there and say '_Wel-l_?' to me!" he snapped.
"But--good Lord, man!--what is Miss Searle to you that you should get so
excited about her disappearance, even assuming what we're not sure
of--that she decamped with Ismay?"
"She's only everything to me," said Iff quietly: "she's my daughter."
Staff slumped suddenly into a chair.
"You're serious about that?" he gasped.
"It's not a matter I care to joke about," said the little man gloomily.
"But why didn't you tell a fellow ...!"
"Why should I--until now? You mustn't forget that you sat in this room
not twenty-four hours ago and listened to me retail what I admit sounded
like the damnedest farrago of lies that was ever invented since the
world began; and because you were a good fellow and a gentleman, you
stood for it--gave me the benefit of the doubt. And at that I hadn't
told you half. Why? Why, because I felt I had put sufficient strain upon
your credulity for one session at least."
"Yes--I know," Staff agreed, bewildered; "but--but Miss Searle--your
daughter--!"
"That's a hard one for you to swallow----what? I don't blame you. But
it's true. And that's why I'm all worked up--half crazed by my knowledge
that that infamous blackguard has managed to deceive her and make her
believe he is me--myself--her father."
"But what makes you think that?"
"Oh, I've his word for it. Read!"
Iff whipped an envelope from his pocket and flipped it over to Staff.
"He knew, of course, where I get my letters when in town, and took a
chance of that catching me there and poisoning the sunlight for me."
Staff turned the envelope over in his hands, r
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