Moira drew back into the room at his bidding. Jimmy strode through the little lobby outside, and opened the door. Ashby Feak stood there, lounging against the side of the doorway, with his hands thrust into his pockets; he nodded coolly, and made a movement to come in. But Jimmy barred the way.
"I'm sorry, Feak," he exclaimed quickly—"but you can't come in now; I—I'm busy. What do you want?"
"I want to have a bit of a talk with you," replied Ashby Feak—"and I mean to have it, if I wait here all night. Five minutes will do—or perhaps less; but it's rather important."
As Jimmy in some dismay fell back before him, the man strode through the lobby, and into the room. He stopped short on seeing Moira standing there; glanced quickly round at Jimmy, who had followed.
"I beg your pardon," said Ashby Feak slowly, with a glance from one to the other—"I did not know you were engaged; you said you were busy. What I have to say——"
Moira broke in quickly. "I was just going. I need not stay a moment. Good-night, Jimmy dear."
The last words were said in a lower tone as she crossed the room to where Jimmy stood; but Ashby Feak heard them; he started, and turned swiftly.
"'Jimmy dear'?" He looked from one to the other with a growing smile on his face. "Won't you introduce me, Larrance?" he asked at last.
"No; this lady is nothing to you," said Jimmy, in a low voice. "Stand aside, please; she is just going."
"She is not going," exclaimed Feak—"not until I know who she is. You know why I ask the question; I am not going to drag in names, especially of women—but this is more than life or death to me. Now, madam—perhaps you'll answer for yourself. Who are you?"