He continued to stare at her in sickly stupefaction.
“Shall I tell him you’ll see him later?”
“Show him in,” said Blake. “But, no—wait till I ring.”
He passed his hand across his moist and pallid face, paced his room again several times, then touched a button and stood stiffly erect beside his desk. The next moment the door closed behind a short, rather chubby man with an egg-shell dome and a circlet of grayish hair. He had eyes that twinkled with good fellowship and a cheery, fatherly manner.
“Well, well, Mr. Blake; mighty glad to see you!” he exclaimed as he crossed the room.
Blake, still pale, but now with tense composure, took the hand of his visitor.
“This is a surprise, Mr. Brown,” said he. “How do you happen to be in Westville?”
Mr. Brown disposed himself comfortably in the chair that Katherine had so lately occupied.
“To-morrow’s the trial of that Doctor West, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”