"Do you mean to say you are quitting of your own accord?" she gasped.
"Yes, madam."
"Don't call me 'madam'! I've told you that before. So—so, you are going to work for her in spite of me, are you? It's all been arranged, has it? You two have—"
"He is coming to me today," said young Mrs. Millidew sweetly. "Aren't you, Trotter?"
"No, I am not!" he exploded.
She stopped short on the stairs, and gave him a startled, incredulous look. Any one else but Trotter would have been struck by her loveliness.
"You're not?" cried Mrs. Millidew from the top step. It was almost a cry of relief. "Do you mean that?"
"Absolutely."
His employer fumbled for a pocket lost among the folds of her dressing-gown.
"Well, you can't resign, my man. Don't think for a minute you can resign," she cried out shrilly.