Merriam glanced at Simpson and was amazed to see how moved he was. He had a sense that the man could hardly keep himself from trembling.
"He's come to help take Norman away," said Rockwell. "He need go no farther than the hall. Come, Margery, let us in. We can't stand here all night. I'll explain to both of you inside. I'm George's friend, you know."
"Well!" Still unwillingly Margery released the chain and moved back, opening the door for them.
As they stepped inside she stared at Merriam.
"The devil!" she exclaimed.
"No," said the young man, "my name's Merriam. How do you do, Miss Milton?"
He looked at Margery almost as curiously as she was looking at him. He was really as innocent as Mollie June--more so, in fact, not being married,--and Margery was the first member of the demi-monde or the near demimonde with whom he had ever had personal contact. He found her disappointing. She was thin to the point of angularity, in a trying yellow negligee, with straight black hair, black eyes that were unpleasantly direct, and a lean dark face that was undeniably hard.
For a moment only she stared. Then she shut the door and spoke to Simpson:
"You stay here!"
"Yes," said Simpson, with more than servitorial humility.