Mrs. D’Alloi colored with pleasure, even while saying: “Now, Watts dear, I won’t swallow such palpable flattery. There’s one kiss for it—Peter won’t mind—and now I know you two want to talk old times, so I’ll leave you together. Good-bye, Peter—or rather au revoir—for you must be a regular visitor now. Watts, arrange with Peter to dine with us some day this week.”
Mrs. D’Alloi disappeared through the doorway. Peter’s pulse did not change a beat.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
HELP.
The moment she was gone, Watts held out his hand, saying: “Here, old man, let us shake hands again. It’s almost like going back to college days to see my old chum. Come to the snuggery, where we shan’t be interrupted.” They went through two rooms, to one fitted up as a smoking-room and office. “It’s papa-in-law’s workshop. He can’t drop his work at the bank, so he brings it home and goes on here. Sit down. Here, take a cigar. Now, are you comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Maintenant, I suppose you want to know why I wrote you to come so quickly?”
“Yes.”
“Well, the truth of it is, I’m in an awful mess. Yesterday I was so desperate I thought I should blow my brains out. I went round to the club to see if I couldn’t forget or drown my trouble, just as sick as a man could be. Fellows talking. First thing I heard was your name. ‘Just won a great case.’ ‘One of the best lawyers in New York.’ Thinks I to myself, ‘That’s a special providence.’ Peter always was the fellow to pull me through my college scrapes. I’ll write him.’ Did it, and played billiards for the rest of the evening, secure in the belief that you would come to my help, just as you used to.”
“Tell me what it is?”