Dick shrugged his shoulders, and stood up, glancing at his wrist-watch.
“I have sent word to Blake to come earlier this morning,” he explained, taking a step toward the door in invitation for her to go.
At the door she paused and leaned toward him.
“Kiss me, Dick,” she said, and, afterward: “This is not a... love-touch.” Her voice had become suddenly husky. “It’s just in case I do decide to... to go.”
The secretary approached along the hall, but Paula lingered.
“Good morning, Mr. Blake,” Dick greeted him. “Sorry to rout you out so early. First of all, will you please telephone Mr. Agar and Mr. Pitts. I won’t be able to see them this morning. Oh, and put the rest off till to-morrow, too. Make a point of getting Mr. Hanley. Tell him I approve of his plan for the Buckeye spillway, and to go right ahead. I will see Mr. Mendenhall, though, and Mr. Manson. Tell them nine-thirty.”
“One thing, Dick,” Paula said. “Remember, I made him stay. It was not his fault or wish. I wouldn’t let him go.”
“You’ve bowled him over right enough,” Dick smiled. “I could not reconcile his staying on, under the circumstances, with what I knew of him. But with you not permitting him to go, and he as mad as a man has a right to be where you are concerned, I can understand. He’s a whole lot better than a good sort. They don’t make many like him. He will make you happy—”
She held up her hand.
“I don’t know that I shall ever be happy again, Red Cloud. When I see what I have brought into your face.... And I was so happy and contented all our dozen years. I can’t forget it. That is why I have been unable to decide. But you are right. The time has come for me to solve the ...” She hesitated and could not utter the word “triangle” which he saw forming on her lips. “The situation,” her voice trailed away. “We’ll all go hunting. I’ll talk with him as we ride, and I’ll send him away, no matter what I do.”