Instinctively she raised her little gloved hand and patted her hair. "I'm ready," she said, unsteadily.
"One extra second to make your will," I added, stunned by her self-possession.
"I—I have nothing to leave—nobody to leave it to," she said, smiling; "I am ready."
I took that extra second myself for a lightning course in reflection upon effects and consequences.
"It's silly, it's probably murder," I said, "but you're engaged! Now we must run for it!"
And that is how I came to engage the services of Miss Helen Barrison as stenographer.