"We are friends, Fowler, are we not?"
The older man rose and held out his hand. "Yes, Huntingdon, as long as we live," and he slowly left the room.
Enoch sank back on his chair, wearily, and opening the top drawer of his desk, took out the familiar envelope. The seal was still unbroken! He placed it in a heavy document envelope, sealed this and wrote a memorandum on it, and dropped it on the desk. Then for a long time he sat staring into the dusk. At last, as if the full realization of the loneliness of his life had swept over him he dropped his head on his desk with a groan.
"O Diana! Diana!"
He did not hear the door open softly. Abbott with Ames just behind him, stood on the threshold. The two young men looked at each other, abashed, and Abbott would have withdrawn, but Ames went doggedly into the room.
"Mr. Secretary!" he said, hesitatingly.
Enoch sat erect. Abbott flashed on the light. "Mr. Ames insists on seeing you again, Mr. Huntingdon," Charley spoke hesitatingly.
"Come in, Ames," said Enoch, coldly. "Abbott, see that this envelope is put in a safe place."
Abbott left them alone. Ames advanced to the desk, where he stood, his face eager.
"Mr. Secretary, you've been so decent. You,—you—well, you're such a man! I—I want to tell you something but I don't know how you'll take it. The truth is, I believe that I could prove that Luigi's mistress was not your mother!"