“I thank you, sir,” Arthur said, “for that and all other kindness. I am not as guilty as you think me. Do you wish me to leave?”
“If you can give me no better assurance of your innocence—if you can give me no explanation of the peculiar and most unsatisfactory manner in which you have met the charge—yes. To retain you here would be unjust to my own interests, and unfair as regards Jenkins and Roland Yorke.”
To give this explanation was impossible; neither dared Arthur assert more emphatically his innocence. Once convince Mr. Galloway that he was not the guilty party, and that gentleman would forthwith issue fresh instructions to Butterby for the further investigation of the affair: of this Arthur felt convinced. He could only be silent and remain under the stigma.
“Then—I had better—you would wish me, perhaps—to go at once?” hesitated Arthur.
“Yes,” shortly replied Mr. Galloway.
He spoke a word of farewell, which Mr. Galloway replied to by a nod, and went into the front office. There he began to collect together certain trifles that belonged to him.
“What’s that for?” asked Roland Yorke.
“I am going,” he replied.
“Going!” roared Roland, jumping to his feet, and dashing down his pen full of ink, with little regard to the deed he was copying. “Galloway has never turned you off!”
“Yes, he has.”