"But if the Governor...."
"Never mind about the Governor now, promise me."
There was a moment of silence and then he said, "I promise," and with head down passed out of the room.
Being alone, Fenella tried in vain to compose herself. The fear that Stowell might kill himself (as a result of the public exposure and humiliation which the Governor would impose upon him) threw her into violent agitation.
Unable to support the strain of her anxiety she could not resist the temptation to listen at the door of her father's room. She heard the two voices within—Stowell's in tones of pitiful supplication, her father's in accents of fierce expostulation. At length she heard her own name mentioned and then she could contain herself no longer.
Opening the door noiselessly she entered the room. The two men were face to face, looking at each other with flaming eyes.
II
"Come in, Stowell. I'm glad you're early. I wanted a word with you before the others arrived. Sit down."
The Governor too was violently agitated. He was striding about the room. His grey hair, usually brushed down with military precision, was loose and disordered, as if he had been running his hands through it, and his pipe, still alight and as if forgotten, was smoking on the arm of his chair.
"You came by train?"