"A private matter?"
"Yes, sir." Larry closed his lips firmly for a moment, and then came to the point without further words. "Mr. Janney, I suppose I should have spoken to you before I left New York. Our business relations seemed to make it difficult. But the very fact that we can't be friends in business makes it necessary for me, at least, to be honest with you in this other matter."
"What on earth are you driving at?"
"I want to marry your daughter, sir, that's all," said Larry with the suddenness of desperation.
"Gretchen? My daughter?" Janney said, explosively. He rose, with one hand on the back of his chair, and glared at Larry as though he doubted his sanity. "You want to marry Gretchen?" Then he laughed—and Larry discovered in that laugh wherein Janney and General Bent had points of contact. Janney took three long strides to the window, then wheeled suddenly. "You must be crazy. My daughter—marry you?"
Larry had risen and met Janney's impertinent scrutiny with some dignity.
"Yes, sir; I'm not aware of anything in my family, my connections, my prospects, or my character which can be found objectionable. Your daughter cares for me——"
"Why, you insolent young fortune-hunter!"
"Wait a moment!" and Larry's voice dominated. "You'll speak to me as one gentleman does to another—or you'll not speak to me at all." He took up his hat from the table, and then, more evenly, "I take it, you refuse your consent?"
By this time Curtis Janney's usual poise had completely deserted him.