"I'm all right," he replied, "only I—I've got a lot of things to think of just now, and—"
Further explanation was spared him, for just then they reached the shop and Laurie opened the door with a sigh of relief. Ned was there, and so were Polly and Mrs. Deane. Laurie morosely declined the offer of a soda, slung himself to a counter, met the surprised and mildly disapproving gaze of the Widow, and got down again. The talk, interrupted by their arrival, began once more. Of course it was about Miss Comfort. (Mrs. Deane had been to see her that forenoon.) She hadn't heard again from the lawyer or from her brother-in-law, and she had begun to pack her things. Laurie felt Ned's gaze on him and turned. Ned's look was inquiring. Laurie didn't know what he meant by it, and frowned his perplexity. Ned worked around to him and whispered in his ear.
"Did it come? Did you get it?" he asked.
"Get what?"
"Shut up! The telegram, you chump!"
"Oh! No, I don't think so."
"You don't think—" began Ned in impatient sibilation.
