“Martin is here, Roberts,” she replied.
“Please let me speak with him.”
Deane beckoned to Martin, who flung himself out of the chair a bit impatiently and took the receiver from her hand.
“You think this is easy,” said Roberts, when he heard his voice. “It isn’t, Martin. You think I’m wrong, and I think you are. But that shouldn’t be an issue. Right or wrong, there is something more important to which we owe our fidelity.”
“What’s that?”
“Ourselves, Martin. Listen! I’ve gone back and forth over our quarrel and God knows where the origin was, or worse yet, where the ends are now. Help me find them, dear boy. Everything is twisted. I can’t sleep.”
Martin rubbed his forehead. There was sincerity in Roberts’ voice.
“Everything’s all right, Roberts,” he said at last. “Come along.”
“Good boy! Good boy!”