"You wish to speak to me?"
At this condescension Miss Ruddick was amazed, but, the responsibility being taken off her hands, she was already capturing the minutes by being "back on her job," according to her favorite expression. Jennie could hardly speak for awe. She recalled what Mrs. Collingham had said—a hard, stern, ruthless man, who kept her, her son, and her daughter as puppets on his string. If he so treated his own flesh and blood, how would he treat her?
Following him into the private office, she reminded herself that she must keep her head. She had come on a specific business, and to that business she must confine herself. Her other relations with this terrible man she must leave to his son to deal with.
"Your name is—"
His tone was courteous. They were both seated now—he at his desk, she in a small chair at a respectful distance. The question surprised her, for the reason that in her confusion she supposed that her identity was known to him.
"I'm Jennie Follett." His visible start did not make her situation easier. She remembered that Mrs. Collingham had said that if he knew of the tie between herself and Bob he would disinherit him on the spot. Just what was implied by that she didn't understand, but it suggested all that was most dramatic in the movies. To disarm his suspicions in this direction, she hurried on to add, "I came about my brother."
He relaxed slightly, leaning on the desk and examining her closely.
"Oh, your brother!"
"Yes, sir. I don't know how much money he's been taking from the bank—"
Collingham's brows contracted.