"Of course I understand you, Abbott," said Mrs. Gregory gently, "and Mr. Gregory is wrong to insist on my interrupting—women are always in the way—" She smiled, and, slipping around Gregory, had reached the door, when she came face to face with Grace Noir, entering. At sight of her—for Grace did not pause, but went over to the piano—Mrs. Gregory apparently reconsidered, and stepped to her husband's side.
"So you did come," Grace said, smiling at Robert. "Shall we go into the other room?"
Robert reveled in her beauty, and to that extent his anger against
Gregory flamed higher. "Pretty soon," he said, "pretty soon, Miss
Grace—in just twenty minutes—" he looked at his watch, then at
Abbott.
"I must tell you, Mr. Gregory," Abbott began rapidly, "that I had just thirty minutes to consummate the matter with you,—just half an hour, when we came here, and ten minutes are already gone. Only twenty minutes are left."
"What do you mean by your twenty minutes being left?" Gregory blustered.
Abbott spoke carefully, at the same time drawing a little farther away from the man he despised: "Bob has been to Springfield about that matter, you understand."
"No, I don't," cried Gregory. "Or if I do—tell it out—all of it."
"He has been to Springfield," Abbott went on, "and he got on the inside of the business, and the interests are determined that—that they will retaliate on you for your successes in the past, and at the same time be a help to Bob."
"I don't understand," Gregory gasped blankly.
"Me neither," muttered Robert.