Judith flashed him a look of gratitude. “Don’t think I am unappreciative of your generous offer,” she exclaimed, “if I decline it.”
“All right, Judith,” and Latimer returned his check book to the desk drawer. “But don’t sell your bonds. You can raise a thousand at any bank by giving them as collateral with your note.”
Judith’s expression altered. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she exclaimed. “Perhaps that would be better.”
“Then if it will be of assistance to you I’ll arrange it at the bank.” Judith nodded a vigorous assent. “Will one thousand be enough?”
Judith considered a second. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Have you the bonds with you?”
“No, they are in our safe at home.” Judith glanced at her wrist-watch and saw that it was half-past two. “I’ll bring the bonds to-morrow morning; that will be time enough. I have the numbers here, however,” and drawing out her bank book from her bag, she turned to its back pages. “They run from 37982 to 37991.” She was on her feet before Latimer had laid down his pencil. “I must hurry, Frank.” Impulsively she clasped his hand in both of hers. “I can’t begin to thank you.”
“Nonsense!” Latimer patted her gently on the shoulder. “I am only too glad, Judith, to be of service. How is your father?”
“Oh, he is all right again.” Judith could not restrain her impatience to be off. “Mother’s rather fidgety; so are we all”—and an involuntary sigh accompanied the words. “Austin’s death was a shock we have not recovered from. It’s—it’s numbed us”—hunting about for a word.
“I understand,” and Latimer looked sympathetically at her as he escorted her through his private entrance into the corridor and to the elevator shaft. “The newspapers said there were no new developments in the case. Are you still annoyed by the police?”