"He won't love her long. I was a fool to let him go this far—a blind, loving fool. But I'll end it now. He shan't marry her. He has no—-"
"I haven't much of a heart to boast of, Bansemer, but I beg of you not to do this thing. I love Graydon. He doesn't deserve any pain or disgrace. Take my advice and leave the city. Let me call Harbert back."
"No! They can't drive me out! Telephone over and ask Graydon to stop here on his way up this afternoon."
The opening and closing of the outer door attracted their attention. Droom peeped forth. In spite of himself, Bansemer started and his eyes widened with sudden alarm. A glance of apprehension passed between the two men.
"It's that Deever boy from Judge Smith's," reported Droom.
"Tell him to get out," said Bansemer, with a breath of relief.
"I thought it might have been—-" began Droom with a wry grin.
"Nonsense!"
"It is a bit too soon. They haven't had time."
As Droom left the room, Bansemer crossed to the window and looked down into the seething street far below. He saw that his hand trembled and he tried to laugh at his weakness. For a long time he stood there, his unseeing eyes focused on the hurrying masses, his ears alert for unusual sounds from the outer office.