The brooch struck the floor with a clink. The sound seemed to pour new life into Larry. He shouted, "Ann!" and sprang into the hall and swiftly toward the girl's room.
Voices stopped him just before he touched the knob. Carlyle's voice, softer than he had dreamed it could be, murmuring:
"If only there weren't Larry—if I weren't afraid he might steal your love back. You say he means nothing to you, and yet—"
"You know he means nothing to me!" For all its animation, Ann's voice held the monotonous cadence of one who is half-asleep.
"You do love me, Ann—more than life itself?"
"More—than life—Thad!"
"Ann, I'm going to ask you something—wait, dear! I know you're tired; but you must keep your eyes open a moment longer...."
The door crashed inward. Larry Wolfe was through it and upon Carlyle before the latter could get to his feet. He had been sitting on the edge of Ann's bunk. With steel fingers Larry hauled him to his feet.
"You damned parasite!" he shouted. "You thought you'd prey upon Ann the same way you did the others, did you?" His fist struck out, but the salvage boss caught his wrist and held it.