But now she would never, never leave her big, wonderful man.
Yes. I had fettered myself fairly completely.
Holborn was noisy that morning, and between the sound of passing vehicles and Archie's own light tread I was not aware of his presence until he spoke. Instantly I saw that he thought he knew why I had come and had resolved to take one bull at least by the horns.
"I say, Jeff," he began at once, with embarrassed sincerity—a sincere desire, that is, to be out of the mess he had landed himself in, "Kitty's just told me. I know—I know you must be beastly angry with me—quite right too—I'm awfully sorry and—and ashamed. It was caddish. But I really didn't mean anything, and—and—and I thought you as much as said it yourself, you know——"
I judged it best not to speak just yet. I stood looking at him.
"You're an awfully good sort," he went on, conciliatingly, "but—but—I really thought you were a bit sweet on her (that was all I meant)—that time—you know—before I knew it was really Kitty. I simply said to Mackie—he watched you too at the party—I admit I was 'on' a bit, and never thought it would end like this——"
Then I spoke. "You mean you didn't think it would end in my getting the sack and being cut by everybody I know except yourself and Mackie? How did you think it would end, then?"
He jumped eagerly at a chance, ready to promise anything.
"I'll see that's all right, old boy—and Hitchcock was coming back anyway, you know—you only had the job while he was away——"
"Oh!" I said, with a nasty laugh. "And in your opinion that's all?... What about my character?" I demanded suddenly. "Eh?"