'Certainly, certainly. Quite justifiable and proper. I'll have them looked up.'
'Any time will do.'
'Well, we're rather busy. Say a week to-day—if you're to be here that long.'
'I guess that'll suit me,' said Twemlow.
His tone had a touch of cynical cruel patience.
The intangible and shapeless suspicions which Ethel had caught from Leonora took a misty form and substance, only to be immediately dispelled in that inconstant mind by the sudden refreshing sound of Milly's voice: 'We've called to take Ethel home, papa—oh, mother, here's Mr. Twemlow!'
In another moment the office was full of chatter and scent, and Milly had run impulsively to Ethel: 'What has father given you to do?'
'Oh dear!' Ethel sighed, with a fatigued gesture of knowing nothing whatever.
'It's half-past five,' said Leonora, glancing into the inner room, after she had spoken to Mr. Twemlow.
Three hours and a half had Ethel been in thrall! It was like a century to her. She could have dropped into her mother's arms.