He did not offer to shake hands, but went to the bell push. A second later a servant appeared, to whom the Admiral nodded. Without hesitation the man opened the door and held it while Bob passed out, and then led the way to the front entrance. When he had gone, the Admiral threw himself into an arm-chair and heaved a deep sigh; it was like saying good-bye to his own son.
As Bob walked down the hall he felt as if an end had come to all his dreams, and that he was being turned out of the house which he had always looked upon as a kind of second home. Of course Nancy would be aware of the interview, and would learn the result. In bidding good-bye to the house, he was also bidding good-bye to her. The servant had his hand upon the door-knob when he heard the rustle of a woman's dress, and Nancy, pale and eager-eyed, came from an adjoining room.
"Jenkins," she said, "Mr. Nancarrow will not go yet; you need not wait." The man left without a word, and Nancy led the way into the room where she had been sitting.
"I felt, perhaps, that I was not fair to you yesterday, and I thought I would give you another chance of—explaining yourself." Her voice was hoarse and trembling—indeed it did not sound like Nancy's voice at all.
"Oh, Nancy," he said, "I was afraid I should not see you! Thank you for speaking."
"Father told me he had written you," she went on. "I—I hope everything is arranged all right. Bob, do you mean what you said? Do you mean that you are going to play the coward?"
"I am doing the hardest thing I ever did in my life," he blurted out.
"In taking a coward's part?"
"Call it that if you like," was his reply.
They were alone by this time, and the door closed behind them.