"You are cruel," Gregory flared out, "you are heartless. If I send away the only one who is in perfect knowledge and sympathy with my work—"
"Then you refuse?"
"Of course I refuse. I'll not permit the work of years to perish because of an unreasonable and preposterous demand. You wouldn't exchange your position here for Bob's grocery, would you, Miss Grace?" he ended appealingly.
"Yes—if you dismiss me," Grace answered, her eyes smoldering.
"Lucy"—Gregory was almost beside himself—"tell her she must stay— tell these men we can not go on with our work, without her."
Not for worlds would Mrs. Gregory have betrayed eagerness for Grace to go, but for no consideration would she have asked her to stay. "Mr. Gregory," she responded, "I can not conceive of your being in the power of business interests to such an extent as to drive you to do anything that seems like taking your heart's blood."
"I refuse!" cried Gregory, again. "Of course I refuse."
"Very well," said Abbott, turning.
"But what are you going to do?" Gregory asked shrinkingly.
"I shall go now; my endeavor to straighten out things—or rather to keep everything peaceful and forgotten—comes to nothing, it seems. Good evening, Mrs. Gregory."