“My sister doesn’t intend to cheapen herself by entering that man’s presence,” he declared, hotly. “I’ll deal with him, myself!”
“All right. But I guess she’d better be here, just the same. Caroline, I want you.”
“She sha’n’t come!”
The boy would have detained him, but he pushed him firmly aside and walked toward the door. Before he reached it, however, his niece appeared.
“Well?” she said, coldly. “What is it you want of me?”
“I want you to hear Mr. Pearson’s side of this business—and mine—before you do anything you’ll be sorry for.”
“I think I’ve heard quite enough of Mr. Pearson already. Nothing he can say or do will make me more sorry than I am, or humiliate me more than the fact that I have treated him as a friend.”
The icy contempt in her tone was cutting. Pearson’s face was white, but he spoke clearly and with deliberation.
“Miss Warren,” he said, “I must insist that you listen for another moment. I owe you an apology for—”