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Six hours later, he diseantic, pink-hued stone temple to railroad power He took an elevator five stories to the station’s top floor and checked in with Van Dorn’s Boston office His father had wired back: “I hope you can stay with me” By the time he made his way to his father’s Greek Revival town house on Louisburg Square, it was after nine

Padraic Riley, the elderly butler who had ed the Bell home since before Isaac was born, opened the polished front door They greeted each other warmly

“Your father is at table,” said Riley “He thought you ht enjoy a late supper”

“I’m famished,” Bell admitted “How is he?”

“Very much himself,” said Riley, discreet as ever

Bell paused in the drawing room

“Wish me luck,” he muttered to his mother’s portrait Then he squared his shoulders and went through to the dining rooure of his father unfolded storklike from his chair at the head of the table

They searched each other’s faces

Riley, hovering at the door, held his breath Ebenezer Bell, he thought with a twinge of envy, seeray, of course, but he had kept it all, unlike him And his Civil War veteran’s beard was nearly white But he still possessed the lean fraht the bloody conflict four decades ago

In the butler’s opinion, the rown into should aze ed with the violet bequeathed by his ht Riley Maybe too much alike

“How can I help you, Isaac?” Ebenezer asked stiffly

“I’m not sure why Andrew Rubenoff sent me here,” Isaac replied just as stiffly

Riley shifted his attention to the older man If there was to be reconciliation, it was up to Ebenezer to make it stick But all he said was a terse, “Rubenoff is a family man”

“I don’t understand”

“He was doing me a kindness… It’s in his nature”