Aware that Garrison held the upper hand, old Robinson was more than chagrined; he was furious. His rage, however, was impotent; there was no immediate remedy at hand. Theodore, equally baffled, returned to his attitude of friendliness.
"No harm's been done, and none was intended," he said. "There's nothing in family rows, anyhow. Father, come along."
His father, on the point of discharging another broadside of anger, altered his mind and followed his son to a room at the rear of the house.
Garrison closed the door.
Dorothy was looking at him almost wildly.
"What does it mean?" she asked in a tone barely above a whisper. "They haven't really found out anything?"
"They suspect the truth, I'm afraid," he answered. "I shall be obliged to ask you a number of questions."
Her face became quite ashen.
"I can see that your employment has become very trying," she said, "but
I trust you are not contemplating retreat."
The thought made her pale, for her heart, too, had found itself potently involved.