"You are quite right. It would not be honorable."
"Still she encouraged me."
"You had better not say anything about that. Mr. Churchill might take offense, and insist on your fighting a duel."
"My dream is at an end. I will never think of her again."
"You are wise."
Livingston Palmer wrote a letter of apology, and mailed it just after supper. After that he seemed more cheerful. Robert concluded that his heart was not quite broken.
The next day about eleven o'clock a large dark-complexioned man with black hair and whiskers and a deep, hoarse voice entered the office.
"What can I do for you, sir?" asked Robert, who was nearest the door.
"Is Mr. Livingston Palmer employed here?"
"Yes, sir. That is he."