His voice was stern. Maude saw that she had made a mistake. “Some of them,” she said in a low voice.
“Who is the favoured gentleman? Have I the honour of his acquaintance?”
“Why, yes, you've met him. It's Harry, I mean Mr. Merry.”
“The young man who was Quincy's private secretary. Quincy wished me to take him into my office, but he never appeared in person.”
“He's with Mr. Curtis Carter on Tremont Street. Mr. Carter was one of Quincy's most intimate friends.”
“And Mr. Merry preferred going to one of Quincy's friends, than to me, and criminal cases rather than civil procedure. Mr. Carter revels in murder trials. But why has this young man failed to consult me on a matter so greatly affecting your future? Why have you assumed the initiative? This is not leap year.”
Maude was ready to cry, but she choked down her rising temper.
“I think he's afraid to.”
“What has he done that he should fear me?”
Maude made another mistake. “He never borrowed any money of you.”