Chapter VI
“Good morning, Steptoe. Will you ask Mr. Allerton if he’ll speak to Miss Walbrook?”
“Mr. Allerton ’as gone to the New Netherlands club for ’is breakfast, miss.”
“Oh, thanks. I’ll call him up there.”
She didn’t want to call him up there, at a club, where a man must like to feel safe from feminine intrusion, but the matter was too pressing to permit of hesitation. Since the previous afternoon she had gone through much searching of heart. She was accustomed to strong reactions from tempestuousness to penitence, but not of the violence of this one.
Summoned to the telephone, Allerton felt as if summoned to the bar of judgment. He divined who it was, and he divined the reason for the call.
“Good morning, Rash!”
His voice was absolutely dead. “Good morning, Barbara!”