"I'll smash every whisky-bottle in the place," said Mrs. Gray, whose indignation was now rising to fever pitch. "Not another drop shall he touch if I know it! I'll soon see about Flora!"
George prepared to depart, perfectly satisfied that his mission had been a success. He took the hand of his old landlady, and said, with some emotion—
"Don't be too hard on him. You don't know how—how it cuts me to the heart to see him do wrong. But remember that he's my old chum. Together we'll drag him away from this curse. He's my chum and your husband—the best fellow that ever lived. Let us save him, and be gentle to him at the same time. Goodbye, good-bye!"
George wrung her hand, and hurried off, to all appearances only just in time to prevent the tears coming.
Mrs. Gray looked after him down the street, and felt her heart glow.
"Ah, Jimmy," she murmured, shaking her head, "you don't realize how much that friend has done for you!"
George travelled back to the office, and reached it just as the office staff was preparing to give up work for the day.
"I suppose Gray's here," he said, summoning a junior clerk. "What time did he get back?"
The clerk coughed discreetly. "'Fraid he hasn't come back yet, sir," he said.
"Send Mr. Busby to me."