"Because it puts an obstacle in the way of our working together in this matter."
"You mean that my attitude toward her is—er—not in keeping with your ideas?"
"You do not understand the situation. Haven't I made it plain to you that she is innocent of any intent to do wrong?"
"You have said so, Mr. Sprouse, but your idea of wrong and mine may not jibe."
"There cannot be two ways of looking at it, sir," said Sprouse, after a moment. "She could do no wrong."
Whereupon Barnes reached his hand across the table and laid it on Sprouse's. His eyes were dancing.
"That's just what I want to be sure about," he said. "It was my way of finding out your intentions concerning her."
"What do you mean?" demanded Sprouse, staring.
"Come with me to my room," said Barnes, suppressing his excitement. "I think I can tell you where she is,—and a great deal more that you ought to know."
In the little room upstairs, he told the whole story to Sprouse. The little man listened without so much as a single word of interruption or interrogation. His sharp eyes began to glisten as the story progressed, but in no other way did he reveal the slightest sign of emotion. Somewhat breathlessly Barnes came to the end.