“I've got to see him. Will you take me in?”
“Oh, sit down! I can tell you more than he can.”
“Perhaps, but at another time.”
Hy emerged from his self-absorption at this point sufficiently to observe that the Worm, usually smiling and calm, was laboring under some excitement.
“All right,” said he, “come along!” And quite light of heart, afraid of nothing now, he led the Worm in and introduced him as, “My friend, Mr. Bates of The 'Courier.” Then, hearing his telephone ringing again, he hurried back to his own office.
It would be Betty, of course. Well, as far as the office was concerned, it didn't matter now. She could call! Anybody could call.... He picked up the receiver.
“Oh,” he murmured—“hello, Silvia! Wait a moment.” He got up and closed the door. “All right,” he said then. “What is it, little girl?”
“Oh!” said she, “thank God, I've found you! Hy, something dreadful has almost happened. It has done such things to my pride! But I knew you wouldn't want me to turn to any one else for help, would you?”
“Oh, no,” said he, with sudden queer misgivings, “of course not! Not for a minute!”
“I knew you'd feel that way, dear. Are you dreadfully busy? Could you—I know it's a lot to ask—but could you, for me, dear, run out for five minutes?”