The clerk’s embarrassment waxed greater.
“I—I guess I should have said it the other way around,” he stammered. “I’m afraid you won’t want to see him.”
“Why not?”
“The fact is—he’s pretty much cut up, you know—and he’s been so worried that—that—well, the plain fact is,” he blurted out, “Mr. Harper has been drinking.”
“To-night?”
“Yes.”
“Much?”
“Well—I’m afraid quite a little.”
“But he’s here?”