"The banks have called my loans—oh, you can't understand. If I don't meet them, the stock will be sold. Bent's crowd will buy it."
"Of course I don't know much about these things, but I was wondering—how much stock is there?"
"Two million and a half. I've borrowed eight hundred thousand dollars."
She looked down, turning the ferrule of her umbrella on the toe of her boot.
"Suppose some one else bought it?"
"I hadn't thought of that. Who?"
"Me."
Jeff started forward in his chair, his eyes blazing—then he took a step or two away from her.
"You?"
She nodded pertly. He turned and looked at her over his shoulder. Then, with a warm impulse, he seized both of her hands in his and held them tightly in his own.