I went in. Mr Draven was pacing up and down the room, and stopped short in front of me as I entered. “Well?”
I wished I was on the other side of the door; but I wasn’t, and must say something, however desperate.
“Please, sir, Browne—”
“Browne leaves here to-day,” said Mr Draven coldly; “what do you want?”
“Please, sir, I hope you will—”
I forgot where I was and what I was saying. My mind wandered aimlessly, and I ended my sentence I don’t know how.
Draven saw I was confused, and wasn’t unkind.
“You have been a friend of Browne, I know,” he said, “and you are sorry. So am I, terribly sorry,” and his voice quite quavered as he spoke.
There was a pause, and I made a frantic effort to recall my scattered thoughts.
“Won’t you let him off this time, sir?” I gasped.