"Do you?" she interrupted, slowly. "I wonder."
"I'm only a beginner," he went on, and his voice was a trifle hurt. "One can't pick up all sorts of technical knowledge in a month, or even a year...."
"Technical knowledge isn't wanted, Herbert—so much as human knowledge, personality. I could run those works—with the help of Mr. Thompson and the other managers.... Ah, dear!" she bent forward quickly. "I don't want to hurt you. But I just can't imagine what would have happened if dad had gone round the works with us this morning.... I believe it would have almost killed him...."
"Very well, dear, if those are your feelings there is no more to be said." With quiet dignity her fiancé rose to his feet. "If you are not satisfied with me..." He left the sentence unfinished.
"I am," she cried, quickly. "I am, Herbert—perfectly satisfied. But..."
"Then don't think any more about it," he said, quickly. "I'll go down, little girl, and find out what the trouble is. And then I'll put it right, and let you know...."
"You'll let me know this evening, won't you?"
For a moment he hesitated.
"If possible, Marjorie...."
"But of course it's possible," she cried, impulsively. "At our works, you've only got to ask.... Have the men together and ask....."