"Why are you so very silent?" she finally asked. "Do you know, it isn't at all flattering. One might think your thoughts were a thousand miles away from here."
"Well, perhaps some of them are," Smith confessed. "And I must really ask your pardon for thinking far away, when I am with you. And yet," he smiled slightly, "perhaps you also came in as an important factor in the background of those far-off thoughts."
"If you are trying to stimulate my curiosity, you have been quite successful," said Miss Maitland, and she waited expectantly.
"Do you remember Mr. O'Connor, the Vice-President of the Guardian?"
Smith asked abruptly.
"Yes. He was the one, wasn't he, who came into Mr. Wintermuth's office for a minute?"
"Yes."
"You say he is Vice-president of the company? Is he a great friend of yours? Perhaps my first impression was wrong, but I don't believe I liked Mr. O'Connor very much—not nearly so much as that amusing Mr. Cuyler, or nice, polite Mr. Wintermuth, or queer, silent Mr. Bartels."
"Well, between you and me, I don't believe your first impression was far from correct. I don't like O'Connor much, myself," said Smith. "More than that, I know he is unfriendly to me. But that is not the point. The point is that he is up to something, and I don't know what it is. And I've got to find out what it is. That's what I was thinking of."
"What kind of a thing do you mean? And what has he done to make you think so?" the girl asked.
"He has succeeded in persuading the President to take the Guardian out of the Eastern Conference. And I can't figure out why. He's got some ulterior motive, but I can't guess what it is."