“That’s a very remarkable girl,” said Farron, remembrances of smiles still on his lips.
“Does she think every one perfect?”
“Almost every one; that’s how she keeps going at such a rate.”
“How long have you known her?”
“About ten minutes. Pete got her here. She knew something about Marty that I needed.” He spoke as if he was really interested in the business before him; he did not betray by so much as a glance the recognition that they were alone, though she was calling his attention to the fact by every line of her figure and expression of her face. She saw his hand move on his desk. Was it coming to hers? He rang a bell. “Is Burke in the outer office? Send him in.”
Adelaide’s heart began to beat as Marty, in his working-clothes, entered. He was more suppressed and more sulky than she had yet seen him.
“I’ve been trying to see you, Mr. Farron,” he began; but Vincent cut in:
“One moment, Burke. I have something to say to you. That bout you said you had with O’Hallohan—”
“Well, what of it?” answered Marty, suddenly raising his voice.
“He knocked you out.”