He frowned and hesitated, rose and slowly followed the man through the door.
Nan seized his hand.
"Oh, Jim, I'm so worried. Cal says you are going to make a desperate fight against him this morning in this disgusting affair. Is it so?"
"I'm going to make the usual plea for mercy for an old broken man—my friend."
"But will it be the usual plea?"
"I'm not going to mince words. I'm going to fight for his life as I would for my own."
The woman drew close, so close he could feel her breath on his cheek as she whispered, earnestly:
"Please, don't do or say anything to-day to cause a break. I couldn't endure it. You don't know how much your friendship means to me."
"You can never lose that again, Nan," he answered, simply.
"But I must see you. Your visits are the brightest spots in my life. A break with him now would plunge me into abject misery. What are you going to say? Are you going to attack Cal? You don't have to do that, Jim! Promise me you won't, for my sake, if you care nothing for the brilliant future that is just opening before you. You do care something for me in spite of all the wrong I have done you in the past."