II
She was sitting at her typewriter when he came into the office. She heard his curt “good morning” to some one else, heard his footsteps behind her. A wave of emotion rushed over her, so that for an instant she could not breathe; but she sat very quiet, the slender, neat, dark-haired Miss Graham that the office always beheld.
Almost at once he sent for her. She rose, took her notebook and pencil, and went into his private office.
“Shut the door,” he said.
The color rose in her cheeks, but she paid no heed to the command. He rose and shut the door himself.
“Look here!” he said. “I—I shouldn’t have made such a fool of myself, only I thought you—liked me.[Pg 555]”
Her cheeks were flaming now. She looked straight into his face.
“If that’s the way you look at it—” she said.
“I came to you,” he said. “I offered you all I had, and you told me to get out.”
“Do you mean to say,” she cried, “that you don’t see how outrageous you were?”