"Mighty glad to know you, sir," was his greeting. "You seem to have got yourself into a jam. If there is anything I can do—any way I can be of service—"
"Horatio, you forget we are not here to make a social call," interrupted Sylvia, who had by this time regained her routed chilliness and indignation. "On the contrary, Mr. Heath, we have come on a very painful errand. We are returning this check to you."
She extended it toward him, gingerly holding its corner in the tips of her fingers as if it were too foul a thing to touch. "It was outrageous of you, insulting to leave a thing of this sort for Marcia—to attempt to pay in cash—kindness such as hers."
"I'm—sorry," Heath stammered.
"Sorry! You couldn't have been very sorry, or you would have sensed such an act would hurt her terribly."
Horatio Fuller fumbled nervously with his tie.
"You deserve," swept on young Sylvia with rising spirit, "to be thrashed. Hortie and I both think so—don't we, Hortie?"
Horatio Junior turned crimson.
"Oh, I say, Sylvia, go easy!" he protested. "Don't drag me into this. I don't know one darn thing about it."
"But I've explained everything to you."