“You’re fired, not because you want money, not because you’re one of the most difficult men on the lot to deal with, but for what you did last night, Foss.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I am taking Mr. Brixan’s view, that you fastened a white label to the window of Miss Leamington’s room in order to guide an agent of Sir Gregory Penne. That agent came and nearly kidnapped my leading lady.”
The man’s lip curled in a sneer.
“You’ve got melodrama in your blood, Knebworth,” he said. “Kidnap your leading lady! Those sort of things may happen in the United States, but they don’t happen in England.”
“Close the door as you go out,” said Jack, preparing for his work.
“Let me say this——” began Foss.
“I’ll let you say nothing,” snarled Knebworth. “I won’t even let you say ‘good-bye.’ Get!”
And, when the door slammed behind his visitor, the old director pushed a bell on his table, and, to his assistant who came:
“Get Miss Leamington down here,” he said. “I’d like contact with something that’s wholesome.”