It was characteristic of him to attempt no explanation. To his mind the situation explained itself.
As Miss Norman made an effort to rise, he placed a detaining hand upon her arm.
"Send Mr. Thompson."
With a motion of his hand Malcolm Sage indicated to William Johnson that the dramatic possibilities of the situation were exhausted, at least as far as he was concerned. With reluctant steps the lad left the room and, having told Thompson he was wanted, returned to his seat in the outer office, where it was his mission to sit in preliminary judgment upon callers.
When Thompson entered, Malcolm Sage instructed him to move the leather-covered chair into Miss Norman's room and, when she was rested, to take her home in the car.
Thompson's face beamed. His devotion to Gladys Norman was notorious.
The girl rose and raised to Malcolm Sage a pair of dark eyes from which tears were not far distant.
"I'm so ashamed, Mr. Sage," she began, her lower lip trembling ominously. "I've never done such a thing before."
"I've been working you too hard," he said, as he held back the door.
"You must go home and rest."
She shook her head and passed out, whilst Malcolm Sage returned to his seat at the table.