“Will I do?” she asked.
“You!” he cried.
Olive was not so much startled as he, because she had been looking at Mr. Martin ever since he entered. Nor did she seem pleased. Mr. Martin had apparently come here filled with rage against her Miss Torrance, and that she would not tolerate.
“What was it you wanted?” she inquired coldly.
“I came,” said Mr. Martin firmly, “about this story—in this magazine. It’s—it’s an outrage!”
“Oh!” cried Olive. “Oh! The—the story?”
He looked at her sternly, yet with a sort of compassion.
“Do you mean that you know about it?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Olive, in a faint little voice. “But—I didn’t think it was so—so bad.”
Mr. Martin looked at her with growing horror.