"Why do you call it that?" she demanded.
"Because, from his point of view, and yours, that is precisely what it is; and it is what you are doing, Miss Farnham. I, the criminal, say this to you. You should have given me up the moment you recognized me. That is your creed, and you should have lived up to it. Since you haven't, you have wronged yourself and have made me the poorer by a thing that——"
"Stop!" she cried, standing up to face him. "Do you mean to tell me that you are ungrateful enough to——"
"No; ingratitude isn't quite the word. I'm just sorry; with the sorrow you have when you look for something that you have a right to expect, and find that it isn't there; that it has never been there; that it isn't anywhere. You have hurt me, and you have hurt yourself; but there is still a chance for you. When I am gone, go to the telephone and call Broffin at the Winnebago House. You can tell him that he will find me at my rooms. Good-by."
He was half-way to the foot of Lakeview Avenue, striding along moodily with his head down and his hands behind him, when he collided violently with Raymer going in the opposite direction. The shock was so unexpected that Griswold would have been knocked down if the muscular young iron-founder had not caught him promptly. At the saving instant came mutual recognition.
"Hello, there!" said Raymer. "You are the very man I've been looking for. Charlotte wants to see you."
"Not now she doesn't," was the rather grim contradiction. "I have just left her."
"Oh."
There was a pause, and then Griswold cut in morosely.
"So you did take my way out of the labor trouble, after all, didn't you?"