Without the faintest consciousness of what he did, Barry crossed the floor between them, and as, on an equally unconscious impulse, she stood up, paling and breathless, he laid his hand over hers on the littered desk, and they stood so, staring at each other, the desk between them.
"Sidney," he said incoherently, "who—where—where did your father's money go—who got it?"
She looked at him in utter bewilderment.
"Where did WHAT—father's money? Who got it? Are you crazy, Barry?" she stammered.
"Ah, Sidney, tell me! Did it come to you?"
"Why—why—" She seemed suddenly to understand that there was some reason for the question, and answered quite readily: "It belonged to my father's first wife, Barry, most of it. And it went to her daughters, my step-sisters, they are older than I and both married—"
"Then you're NOT worth eight million dollars?"
"I—? Why, you know I'm not!" Her eyes were at their widest. "Who ever said I was? I never said so!"
"But everyone in town thinks so!" Barry's great sigh of relief came from his very soul.
Sidney, pale before, grew very red. She freed her hands, and sat down.