'George.'
'Yes?'
'George, she's a pretty good long way away, isn't she?'
She looked up at him with a curious light in her grey eyes. Rutherford met her glance steadily.
'Not to me,' he said. 'She's here now, and all the time.'
He stepped away and picked up the sheaf of papers which he had dropped at Peggy's entrance. Peggy laughed.
'Good night, Georgie boy,' she said. 'I mustn't keep you up any more, or you'll be late in the morning. And what would the bank do then? Smash or something, I guess. Good night, Georgie! See you again one of these old evenings.'
'Good night, Peggy!'
The door closed behind her. He heard her footsteps hesitate, stop, and then move quickly on once more.