Silwood all the while was regarding him intently. He was trying to read Eversleigh's mind, and he came to the conclusion that Eversleigh was capable of committing suicide or some other rash act.
"Before speaking of these, Frank," replied Silwood, "let me beg of you not to fret too much. What is the use of dwelling on what is past and cannot now be mended?"
"How can I help it?"
"You must try. For one thing, you must come to the office. It is surely better to attend to your work at the office——"
"To attend to my work!" broke in Eversleigh. "How can I, when all my thoughts are centred on one thing—the ruin that is coming upon me and those innocent ones who must suffer? To attend to my work is impossible!"
"Surely not."
"You know—no one better—that for years I have never attended to my work properly. Do not think that I consider myself free from blame. I ought never to have allowed you to get control of the whole finances of the firm. It was my duty to have made inquiry, and to have seen that everything belonging to our clients was in perfect order. I have been criminally neglectful—I see that very clearly;" and as he spoke his own condemnation there was a sob in his throat.
"Yes; but how does all this prevent you from coming to the office? Is it not just the other way? And for a short time there is no reason to be afraid. What we have to dread most is the coming of Morris Thornton, and that, I hear, will not be till some time next week. That gives us a little breathing-space."
"Till some time next week!" said Eversleigh. "That's not much of a respite."
"Still, it's something. But there is another thing I have to tell you."