Mr. Solway observed how white and strained the young man’s face was, and he spoke to him very kindly.
“Well?” he said. “What is it, Moss?”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave tomorrow, sir.”
“Leave, eh?”
“Yes, sir. I—it’s—family troubles, sir.”
“Married man?” asked Mr. Solway, in a low voice.
“No, sir,” said Ross. The honest sympathy in the other man’s tone made him sick with shame. “It’s a—a younger sister of mine.”
“Well, my boy,” said Mr. Solway, “I’m sorry, very sorry. You’re the sort of young fellow I like. Family troubles— Too bad! I’m sorry. Come back here any time you like.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Ross.
“Nonsense! Nonsense! You’re the type of young— Ha, Gayle! Step in! Step in. Start her up, Moss!”