"Do you think a drunkard is wholly to blame—for his malady!"
"Oh," said Georgia, "I'm not sure that anyone's ever to blame for anything. It just happens, that's all."
Mrs. Plew knocked and half opened the door. "That young man's back," she said, "shall I show him in?" Before Georgia could answer Stevens came into the room.
Without greeting of any kind, in rapid, mechanical words, as if he had learned his piece by heart, he explained his abrupt coming.
"I have received a business offer," he began, "which if I accept will take me away from America for a term of years. It is to superintend, on behalf of Mr. Silverman, the reorganization of certain life companies along modern American lines in South America. Headquarters, Rio de Janiero, Brazil. I have come for your advice, and your advice will govern. Shall I or shall I not accept the offer?" He stopped abruptly, looking at her with a harsh, almost savage expression, as he waited for her reply.
"You know what I mean," he burst out. "Answer me yes or no."
"You know Father Hervey, Mr. Stevens," she said coolly.
"I think I have heard of you before, Mr. Stevens," the priest bowed slightly.
"And I have heard of you," answered the young man bitterly. He turned to Georgia. "Answer me," he repeated, "yes or no."
"If it is an advantageous offer from a business point of view," she said gently, "I think you should go, Mason."