"That was what you said before. On the strength of it you gave him this chance. Well, he's proved himself unworthy of it. You must get rid of him—for the sake of the Institute and for your own sake, too."
"Get rid of him?" She looked oddly at Cartmell. "Isn't that rather severe? Wouldn't a good scolding from you——?"
"From me? He practically tells me to mind my own business. If there are any complaints, the fellow says, they'd better be addressed to you!" He paused for a moment. "He gives the impression that you'd back him up through thick and thin, and, what's more, he means to give it."
"What does he say to give that impression?" she asked quickly.
"He doesn't say much. It's a nod here, and a wink there—and a lot of vaporing, so I'm told, about having known you when you were a girl."
"That's silly, but not very bad. Is that all?"
"No. When one of my clerks—Harrison, a very steady man—gave him a friendly warning that he was going the right way about to lose his job, he said something very insolent."
"What?" She was sitting very still, very intent.
"He laughed and said he thought you knew better than that. Said in the way he said it, it—it came to claiming some sort of hold on you, Miss Jenny. That's a very dangerous idea to get about."
Cartmell was evidently thinking of the old story—of the episode of Cheltenham days. But had Powers been thinking of that? And was Jenny, with her bright eyes intent on Cartmell's face? She did not look alarmed—only rather expectant. She foresaw a fight with Powers, but had no doubt that she could beat him—if only the mischief had not gone too far.