“I’m sorry.... I have been—bothered—with matters—affairs——”
“You are bothered now,” he said. “If you have something to say to Garry, I’ll go about my business.... Only I’m sorry it’s not your business, too.”
He released her hand and reached for the door-knob: her dark eyes were resting on him with a strained, intent expression. On impulse she thrust out her arm and closed the door, which he had begun to open.
“Please—Mr. Westmore.... I do want to see you. I’m trying to think clearly—” She turned and looked at Barres.
“Is it serious?” he said in a low voice.
“I—suppose so.... Garry, I wish to—to come here ... and stay.”
“What!”
She nodded.
“Is it all right?”