The others turned to the door to which he had pointed—not the door that led to the hall, but at the other end of the long room—but Florence Gregory went up to her husband. “Robert——” she began, but she could not say more, and her eyes were swimming.
Her husband cupped her face in his hands. “There, Mother, there,” he said tenderly, and just a little brokenly, “I know, dear, I know. I understand. There—there. It’s all right. I’ll be careful—very, very careful. Ah Wong!” But he need not have called Ah Wong—she was there already, waiting to serve; and though Hilda turned to her mother as if to help her, and Tom Carruthers and Holman did too, it was Ah Wong who led her out, Ah Wong to whose hand she held and leaned on a little as she went.
CHAPTER XXVII
The Beginning of the Duel
AT the door Holman, as devoted a servant in his masculine and British way as Ah Wong was in her way, turned back almost peremptorily, and coming close to Robert Gregory said sharply, “Governor!” There was entreaty in the word, and there was command.
Gregory recognized both, and accepted both loyally from so tried and loyal a servant. It was one of his strengths that he recognized and appreciated valuable subordinates. “Well?” he said.
“Handle this man carefully,” the old clerk said, speaking more emphatically than he had ever spoken to any one before—and he was an emphatic man always.
Gregory nodded.
As Tom held open the door behind his chief’s desk, Murray opened the other door and announced, “Mr. Wu, sir.”
“Ah! show him in,” Mr. Gregory said, rather too indifferently, and so scoring the first mistake in the duel of which it was the first thrust. Holman knotted vexed brows, and the wife threw an imploring look. But Gregory saw neither, but busied himself ostentatiously with his papers, writing with head down, posing as being deeply immersed in business—and just a little overdoing it.