I turned, without going back.
"I'm—I'm leaving."
I was so amazed that I retraced a step or two toward him. "What?"
His smile underwent a change. It grew frozen and steely instead of being bright with a continuous play suggesting summer lightning, which had been its usual quality.
"My time is up at the end of the month—and I've asked Mr. Rossiter not to expect me to go on."
I was looking for something of the sort sooner or later, but now that it had come I saw how lonely I should be.
"Oh! Where are you going? Have you got anything in particular?"
"I'm going as secretary to Stacy Grainger."
"I've some connection with that name," I said, absently, "though I can't remember what it is."
"You've probably heard of him. He's a good deal in the public eye."