“Leonard,” she cried out, “you are not going like this? You don't mean it!”
Ever afterwards his restraint amazed him. He did not reply. He closed both doors firmly behind him and walked to the lift. She came even to the outside door and called down the corridor.
“Leonard, come back for one moment!”
He turned his head and looked at her, looked at her from the corner of the corridor, steadfastly and without speech. Her fingers dropped from the handle of the door. She went back into her room with shaking knees, and began to cry softly. Afterwards she wondered at herself. It was the first time she had cried for many years.
Tavernake walked to the city and in less than half an hour's time found himself in Mr. Martin's office. The lawyer welcomed him warmly.
“I'm jolly glad to see you, Tavernake,” he declared. “I hope you've got the money. Sit down.”
Tavernake did not sit down; he had forgotten, indeed, to take of his hat.
“Martin,” he said, “I am sorry for you. I have been fooled and you have to pay as well as I have. I can't take up the option on the property. I haven't a penny toward it except my own money, and you know how much that is. You can sell my plots, if you like, and call the money your costs. I've finished.”
The lawyer looked at him with wide-open mouth.
“What on earth are you talking about, Tavernake?” he exclaimed. “Are you drunk, by any chance?”