“Mr. Miller? Are you there?”
“Yes.”
“All right. I’ll come round.”
A few minutes passed, and then my clerk announced, “A lady to see you, sir.”
A remarkably pretty girl of about eighteen was ushered in. She stood still some way from me till the door was closed. Then she suddenly rushed toward me, fell at my feet, and exclaimed, “You will protect me, won’t you?”
“My dear young lady, what in the world——”
“You’re the famous Mr. Miller, aren’t you? Mr. Joseph Miller, the philanthropist?”
“My name is Joseph Miller certainly.”
“Ah! Then I am safe;” and she sat down in an armchair, and smiled confidingly at me.
“Madam,” said I sternly, “will you have the goodness to explain to what I owe the pleasure of this visit?”