Before she could reply a rasping voice called from the inner office:
“Oh, Harry, send Miss Masters in here, will you?”
“The Governor wants you, Miss Masters,” said Harry, his eyes still on Patience.
“I’m coming, Mr. Boland,” proclaimed the stenographer.
With only a glance at her companions, she made a detour of the desk in the center of the room and glided into the other office.
“I’m afraid Miss Masters may be kept busy for some time,” volunteered Harry kindly, “but if—if you care to wait—”
Patience only bowed her head and attempted to pass him; but she caught her breath quickly and her body swayed slightly, but perceptibly.
“I beg your pardon,” went on Harry, fencing for time.
Again endeavoring to pass him, she staggered and put out one hand to steady herself, which Harry clasped quickly.
“Let me help you,” he said.