“Read it,” she nodded.
He ran through the brief document.
“Yes; it’s just as well that I should know. I’ll leave a copy.”
Something in his accent made her scrutinize him.
“You’re going into danger!” she cried.
“Danger? No; I think not. Difficulty, perhaps. But I think it can be put through.”
“If it were dangerous, you’d do it just the same,” she said, almost accusingly.
“It would be worth some danger now to get you away from greater danger later. See here, Miss Brewster”—he rose and stood over her—“there must be no mistake or misunderstanding about this.”
“Don’t gloom at me with those awful glasses,” she said fretfully. “I feel as if I were being stared at by a hidden person.”
He disregarded the protest.