"I was counting on your interest, for he values your good opinion more I think than that of anyone in the world."
Her foot ceased tapping and she bent forward, one elbow on her knee, her head lowered thoughtfully.
"What do you want, Mr. Canby?" she asked abruptly.
"Your help."
"Mine!"
"Yes, your help. Jerry needs it—"
"He did not ask—?"
"No. I haven't consulted Jerry—"
"Then I—"
"Please listen. If Jerry's future means anything to you, you will do what you can. Jerry has—has gotten into bad company—he is slipping, Miss Habberton—slipping down. I don't know whose the fault is, his father's for his idealism, or mine for my selfish delight in the experiment of his education, but Jerry is failing us. You see, I'm telling you all. I have given up. A dream, you have called it. It was a dream; but I can't see him fail without an effort to help him. When a man centers all his hopes in life on one ambition, its failure is tragic. You see I'm humble. It has cost me something to come to you. I hope you understand what it means."