“You are just doing it to hold your position,” retorted the girl, “and now, by threats of blackmail you prevent me from exposing you—you are a despicable cur.”
Jimmy felt the blood mounting to his face. He was mortified and angry, and yet he was helpless because his traducer was a woman. Unconsciously he drew himself to his full height.
“You will have to think about me as you please,” he said; “I cannot influence that, but I want you to understand that you are not to interfere with my work. I think we understand one another perfectly, Miss Compton. Good night.”
And as he closed the door behind him he left a very angry young lady biting her lower lip and almost upon the verge of angry tears.
“The boor,” she exclaimed; “he dared to order me about and threaten me.”
The telephone interrupted her unhappy train of thoughts. It was Bince.
“I am sorry, Elizabeth,” he said, “but I won’t be able to come up this evening. I have some important business to attend to. How is your father?”
“He seems very tired and despondent,” replied Elizabeth. “That efficiency person was here to dinner. He just left.”
She could not see the startled and angry expression of Bince’s face as he received this information. “Torrance was there?” he asked. “How did that happen?”
“Father asked him to dinner, and when he wanted to discharge the fellow Torrance told him something that upset father terribly, and urged that he be kept a little while longer, to which father agreed.”