“Yes—and always will,” he said firmly.
She was silent once more. Then, “What are you going to do next?”
“Break things up between her and Barney and her father. Get her away from them.”
She asked no further questions. Larry was as settled as a man could be. But was Maggie worth while?—that was the great question still unanswered.
“Just what did you want me for, grandmother?” he asked her finally.
“Something which I thought might have developed, but which hasn't.”
And so she let him go away without telling him. And wishing to shape things for the best for him, she was troubled by the same doubts as before.
His visit with his grandmother had had no meaning to Larry, since he had no guess of the struggle going on within that ancient, inscrutable figure. The visit had for him merely served to fill in a nervous, useless hour. His rage against Barney had all the while possessed him too thoroughly for him to give more than the mere surface of his mind to what had passed between his grandmother and himself. And when he had left her, his rage at Barney's treachery and his impetuous desire to snatch Maggie away from her present influences, so stormed within him that his usually cautious judgment was blown away and recklessness swept like a gale into control of him.
When he called up the Grantham a second time, at nine o'clock, Maggie's voice came to him:
“Hello. Who this, please?”