"I want," Barclay went on, watching the young face very closely, "your help in a matter of great importance both to Grisel and to me."
"I'd do a great deal for you, sir. I'd do anything in the world—for—Griselda."
"I am glad to hear you say that. Well, what steps would you advise me to take in order to—to break off my engagement to Griselda?"
The hot red leaped to Wick's face, and he started violently, but he did not speak for a time; his surprise was unblemished by his having had any suspicion that the interview was going to take this turn, and for a moment he was incapable of sane speech. When he could find his voice it was to exclaim blandly, "Why do you ask me?"
"Because," the older man answered in a perfectly even voice, "I know that she loves you."
Wick rose. "Oh, you know that!"
"I do, and because of this I have suggested to her that perhaps, when she did me the honour of accepting me, she—she made a mistake."
A sudden grin, as disconcerting as it was irresistible, appeared on the young man's face, and they both waited for it to disappear much as they might have waited for the withdrawal of an intruding stranger.
"Oh, no, she didn't make any mistake," Wick broke out when he could again control his facial muscles. "She knew perfectly well when she accepted you; knew—that—well, sir"—he proceeded boldly, yet with a very charming deference—"that she loved me."
"Surely she never told you this?" Barclay's voice was stern.