Under the sway of those eyes decision within him wavered. When he spoke it was in a tone of solemn pronouncement: “Miss Stone, you have asked of me what should be impossible.”
“But you can make it a possibility?”
“The ultimate decision lies with—J.C.X.” Again that furtive glance about the room as he pronounced the name in a whispered undertone. “It were better—perhaps—that you should not meet J.C.X.”
“Is he so terrible?”
“No, it is not that. If I could in some way act as intermediary, for instance?”
But the girl was in no wise willing to let slip by her hard-won concession. “It would not do,” she negatived. “I am sorry, for I know I could trust you as such, but I feel it is imperative that I should meet J.C.X. personally if that which I was sent for is to be properly explained.”
His eyes searched her face. “What do you know of J.C.X.?” he asked.
“Nothing—positively nothing. Oh, I wish I could explain. I hate being mysterious, but for the present I must ask you to accept my statement that it appeals to me as vital to meet him. Can you accept such a statement?”
Under stress of her anxiety she had unconsciously placed an ivory-white little hand upon his sleeve. He thrilled at the pressure.
“I can and do accept it,” he returned. “What is more, when the time is opportune, you shall meet the one you desire to. But you must be patient; for a little while there will be obstacles which are insurmountable.”