He was touched, and rose again. "Certainly."
"Mr. Wayne," she began again slowly, "has been very—nice to me. I didn't think about it; I got to like it very much. Yesterday he—kissed me. Isn't he engaged to Miss Blanchard, sir?"
"He is."
"I thought so; and yet, Mr. Mather, I couldn't be offended. This afternoon, when he went away, he came to kiss me again, and I couldn't try to stop him. Was it shameful, sir?"
He ground his teeth. "Of him!"
"And he left me this." She opened the hand which she had held tight closed, and showed a jewelled pin.
Mather took it; it was costly, very handsome. "Well, Miss Jenks?"
"I don't think I'm that kind of a girl, sir. And yet I'm frightened at myself—for not being able to resist him, I mean. And so I've got to go, sir." Up to this time she had spoken quietly, with little sign of emotion, but now she clasped her hands together, and tears welled out on her cheeks. "I cannot stay another day!"
He turned away from her, and for a space strode up and down the office, cursing silently. Then he sat and tried to think. Jim, Jim!