"Then he's——" She made a grim cipher with her forefinger, and stood up. "If there's no money, good afternoon!"
David did not rise. He guessed her dismissal to be a bit of play-acting. "Whatever comes to you must come through me," he said, "and you of course realise that nothing can come from me till I understand the situation."
"He understands it. That's enough."
"Oh, very well then. I see you want nothing." David determined to try play-acting himself. He rose. "Let it be good-afternoon."
She stopped him at the portieres, as he had expected. "It's mighty queer, when Morton's been trying hard to keep this thing between himself and me, for him to send a third person here."
"I can't help that," he returned with a show of indifference.
"But how do I know you really represent him?"
"You must take my word for it. Or you can telephone St. Christopher's and ask if David Aldrich is not in charge of his affairs."
She eyed him steadily for a space. "You look on the square," she said abruptly; then she added with an ominous look: "If there's no money, you know what'll happen!"
David shrugged his shoulders. "I told you I know nothing."