Waymark was silent.
"Don't you think," the other pursued, "it's about time something was said to her?"
"I can't see that it matters, and—"
"But I can see. As long as that isn't known you're here, to speak plainly, on false pretences."
"Then I won't come here at all!"
"Very good," exclaimed the old man irritably, "so long as you explain to her first."
Waymark turned away, and stood gazing gloomily at the floor. Abraham regarded him, and a change came over his hard face.
"Now, look here," he said, "there's something in all this I can't make out. Is this engagement a serious one?"
"Serious?" returned the other, with a look of misery. "How can it be otherwise?"
"Very well; in that case you're bound to let Ida know about it, and at once. Damn it all, don't you know your own mind?"