Monica laughed lightly.
"Then let it be a 'special.' That, and his automobile, will serve him well enough. You see——"
She broke off listening. Faintly, but quite distinctly, the low purr of a high-powered car penetrated the dense atmosphere of the office.
Angus started up. He, too, heard the sound, and he turned to the waiting woman.
"Guess it was a 'special' all right. Say——"
He broke off as his narrow eyes took in the expression of Monica's face. He ran to her side as though to support her.
"You're faint, mam!" he cried. "It's the heat of this room. It's——"
But Monica shook him off. Her face was deadly pale, and she stood supporting herself against the arm of her chair. Her eyes were alight with a dreadful alarm, as she gazed incredulously at the hands of the clock on the desk.
It was half-past one, and all this time Frank had been waiting in the library for her. The thought of her folly and carelessness was maddening. She would never, never forgive herself if harm came through it. Harm? It must not. She must get away at once. She must give him warning.
Then she remembered her companion. His sharp eyes were upon her. With a great effort she pulled herself together. It would be fatal for him to realize the truth of her feelings. She forced herself to a reassuring smile.