“Yes, sir! I will inform him.”
Mayo and the girl exchanged eloquent looks; they had been leaving Mr. Bradish out of their calculations; they had discarded him from their thoughts; that he had had the effrontery to reappear in the Marston & Waller offices was news indeed.
Marston took the girl by the arm and led her toward a door. “I tell you to go home!” he cried, angrily, stopping her protests. “No, you are going by this side door. I do not believe one word you have told me. It's all a transparent attempt to continue your folly. I'll know how to look after you from now on!” He closed the door behind her and locked it.
“I swear this is all true, sir,” pleaded Mayo. “I'm not trying to deceive you through your daughter. I did not understand what she intended to say. I want my rights as a man who has been tricked, abused—”
Mr. Bradish appeared, bowing respectfully. He was once more part of the smooth machinery of the Marston & Waller offices. He was pale, calm, cool, subdued master of his emotions as the employees of Julius Marston were trained to be.
“Did you ever see this man before? Of course you never did!” prompted the financier.
“I never saw him before, sir.”
“Certainly not! What have you to say to the ridiculous, nonsensical story that you attempted to elope with my daughter?”
Not by a flicker of the eyelids did the imperturbable maker of million-dollar checks show confusion.
“If such a lie needs denial from me I most firmly do deny it, sir.”