"Well,"—Shaw sighed, dropped the cigar into the tray at his elbow, and sat up to face the young man with an entire change of manner—"The rest of it," he said, calmly, "is this. Unless you make that promise we can't have the farewell scene we are both looking forward to so eagerly."
"You mean—" Laurie was staring at him incredulously—"you mean you don't intend to let me leave here?"
Shaw shrugged deprecating shoulders.
"Oh, surely! But not immediately."
His guest turned and addressed the fire.
"I never listened to such nonsense in my life," he gravely assured it.
"It does seem a little melodramatic," he conceded. "I tried to think of something better, something less brusque, as it were. But the time was so short; I really had no choice."
"What do you mean by that?" Laurie had again turned to face him.
"Exactly what I say. Think it over. Then let me have your decision."