“You want this favor badly?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“If I grant it, will you do something for me?”
“Need you ask?”
“I will grant your wish on a condition.”
Tarbot’s face grew white. He came still closer to Barbara.
“Well?” she asked impatiently.
“If I allow you to sit with little Piers to-night will you—kiss me?”
Barbara staggered and caught a chair to steady herself.
“An hour ago I thought you a good man,” she said at last slowly. “I was mistaken. I cannot sit with Piers on those terms. Good night.”