Mr. Britt did not wait in his office for the completion of the panegyric. He knew well enough what arriving personage it heralded. He hurried out into the corridor and faced the radiant girl who came in from the sunshine. Even one who might question the Prophet's tact would not have blamed his enthusiasm.
“Vona, you swear out a warrant and I'll have him arrested,” stammered the employer.
She checked a chirrup of laughter and her smile faded when she opened her eyes on Britt's sourness.
“There's a law about hectoring and insulting a female person on the street—some kind of a law—and we'll invoke it in this case,” Britt insisted.
“Why, Mr. Britt, he's only a harmless old man with extremely poor judgment about most things, including a girl's looks,” she protested.
“Don't you call that gabble an insult to you, walking along and minding your own business?” His heat was alarming; he shook his fist to indicate the Prophet.
She was unable to restrain her demure smile. “The specifications, sir, are overflattering; but I'm sure I don't feel insulted.”
In the past Britt had purred paternally in her presence and had stared at her in a way that often disconcerted her. Now his expression alarmed her. His face grew red. At first she thought he was embarrassed by the reflection that he had been terming the Prophet's compliments an insult—intimating that she had no claim to such compliments. But Mr. Britt did not bother to deal with that phase of the matter. The flame was shifted from his face to his eyes; his cheeks grew pale. He tried to put his arm about her. She set her gloved hands against the arm and pushed it away, fright popping her eyelids wide apart.
“I want to protect you,” Britt stuttered. “I don't want any harm or trouble to come to you.”
He stepped back and gazed at her imploringly. His abashed obedience, his promptness in desisting, restored her self-possession immediately. She had the air of one who had misunderstood friendly interest. “Oh, Mr. Britt, I know you have a kind heart underneath your—I mean that folks don't realize how good you are unless they are near to you, as Frank and I are. We often speak of it.” She hurried on. She opened the door admitting to the bank from the corridor and cheerily called her “Good morning!” to the cashier as she crossed the threshold.