Her dark, bright gaze jumped to Grimshaw.
“I just wondered,” she said. The secretary had grown very pale, and it was difficult to face her; but he did so. Adèle stepped nearer to him. “So you did use your power of attorney,” she added.
“Certainly,” replied Grimshaw, with all the dignity he could command. “As you know, I am always looking out for advantageous business moves for you. Here was one that was extraordinary. The sale of that corner where the Duanes have been living, to be used for an apartment house, could only be made to a man of Mr. Goldstein’s means—”
“And generosity.” Miss Frink’s interruption was curt to fierceness. She grasped the gold coins and let them jingle back on the desk.
The purchaser spoke cheerfully. “Oh, it was all the same to me,” he said. “Mrs. Lumbard, she is the lady that loves the gold.” He laughed toward Adèle and wagged his head. “She likes her salary in those good little solid pieces. Isn’t it so, lovely lady?”
Miss Frink’s glance flashed at Adèle. “But this is not her salary, I judge.”
Mr. Goldstein shrugged deprecatingly. “Oh, no, Mr. Grimshaw has been very obliging.”
“Leonard, I feel that you had help in all this.” The speaker regarded her secretary with deep feeling. “You would not have done it, alone.”
Grimshaw could not speak; and Adèle saw it. She cast a defiant, angry glance at Hugh and Millicent, silent spectators of the scene. The girl’s hands were unconsciously on her heart as hope sprang in it for her grandfather’s deliverance.