About the table reigned silence. Men looked one at another and dared not speak. Ried Williams, with a slight shrug, lighted a cigarette; his sallow features were very cynical. Slosson stared at Deming, at Armstrong, with surly anger in his eyes. One would have said that he hated this man for whom he worked, this man whose daughter he had failed to win, and the other man in shirt-sleeves who had won her.
Armstrong read that gaze, and smiled at the fright, the anger, the bitter venom, of it. Never did it enter his head that this Slosson was to be feared, or even remembered. Already his mind was turning upon other matters.
"Will nobody—" Deming looked up. The words faltered on his tongue, and died away. One or two of his directors shuffled uneasy feet, cleared their throats. No one replied.
Then Armstrong, pushing back his chair, rose to his feet.
A flash of vigor shook Deming. The man leaped up, held out his hand in restraint, and found passionate, eager words of protest.
"Not you, Reese!" His voice came like the snapping of a taut cord. "Not you! I did not summon you here for—to ask your charity! Now that you know the worst, I release you on Dorothy's behalf. You shall not marry the daughter of a pauper, a man who has not a cent, a man facing bankruptcy—"
"Be quiet, please," said Armstrong. Under his calm gaze, Deming's voice died again, and Deming stared at him, wondering, agonized, breathing hard.
"Don't intrude personalities into this; you cannot realize what your words portend," said Armstrong in that same level, quiet tone. "If you or any other man tries to come between me and Dorothy, he'll be set aside. Do you think I'm marrying for money? Do you think I give a tinker's damn whether you're rich or poor, an honest man or a thief—except for Dorothy's sake? Sit down and listen to me. I'm not talking charity. I'm talking business."
Deming dropped once more into his chair, an old man again. He shaded his eyes with his hand, and his fingers trembled. No one regarded him; every eye was now fastened upon Armstrong.
"I've very little time to talk with you, gentlemen," said the latter crisply. "More important matters await me downstairs and I want no arguments. I will make a proposal which you may either accept or refuse. I make it, understand, purely as a business proposition."