The boy caught the look of surprise on his father's face, realized that he must have heard the rustle of Helen's dress, and decided instantly to accept the fact.
He boldly walked to the door and gazed after her retreating figure, his back squarely on his father.
Norton paused and looked sharply at Tom:
"Was—that—Helen?"
The boy turned, smiling, and nodded with slight embarrassment in spite of his determined effort at self-control:
"Yes."
The father's keen eyes pierced the boy's:
"Why should she run?"
Tom's face sobered:
"I don't think she wished to see you just now, sir."