"Tell Mrs. Johnson to bring her here." As the old attendant went to obey the order, the superintendent turned to Dr. Zacharie: "Will you wait, doctor?" he asked.
The other quickly shook his head.
"No," he said. "I don't like that fellow Ricaby. He has a stupid idea that we are opposed to him. May I take this report? I would like to show it to my colleagues when they come."
"Certainly, certainly," replied the other.
He rose from his desk, indicating by a nod to his stenographer that there would be no further dictation. As the secretary gathered her papers the bell rang.
"There's the luncheon bell," said the superintendent. Addressing Dr. Zacharie: "Won't you join us?"
"No, thanks," replied the physician. "Send us a copy of the other reports, will you? We shall need them on Friday."
Buzz! buzz!
Mr. Spencer touched a button and the big doors swung wide open, giving admittance to Mr. Ricaby, who, pale and anxious-looking, advanced quickly into the office. As he came in Dr. Zacharie, a sneer on his lips, made a formal salutation, but it was not returned. Ignoring the physician's presence entirely, the lawyer made his way straight to the superintendent's desk:
"I wish to see my client, Miss Marsh," he said, in a firm voice that would brook no refusal.