"I do not understand,—" amended the younger man politely.
Calendar compressed his lips nervously. It was plain that the man was quivering with impatience and half-mad with excitement. He held quiet only long enough to regain his self-control and take counsel with his prudence.
"It is impossible, Mr. Kirkwood. I must ask you to be generous and believe me."
"Very well; for the sake of the argument, I do believe you, Mr. Calendar."
"Hell!" exploded the elder man in an undertone. Then swiftly, stammering in his haste: "I can't let Dorothy accompany me to the door," he declared. "She—I—I throw myself upon your mercy!"
"What—again?"
"The truth—the truth is, if you will have it, that I am in danger of arrest the moment I leave here. If my daughter is with me, she will have to endure the shame and humiliation—"
"Then why place her in such a position?" Kirkwood demanded sharply.
Calendar's eyes burned, incandescent with resentment. Offended, he offered to rise and go, but changed his mind and sat tight in hope.
"I beg of you, sir—"