"No," commanded Sanford, "not a drop; I'm cool enough. I've been hurrying, that's all. Haven't forgotten how fussy you are about keeping appointments on the minute, you see."
Gorham laughed. "I must have learned the trait from you; but it doesn't apply to an old friend like Stephen Sanford," he said. "Business is business, of course; but you wrote me that you wanted my advice. There are no minute appointments in friendship, Stephen. My time is yours."
"Thank you." Sanford was sparring for breath. "I haven't pestered you much with my personal affairs, have I?"
"You couldn't 'pester' me with them, Stephen. If I can serve you I'll be as glad to as you would be to reciprocate."
"Yes, yes." The visitor still employed monosyllables as far as possible as his vehicle of expression, but he was mastering his emotion.
"Have you seen Allen?" Gorham asked, naturally but unfortunately.
Sanford sprang out of his chair and waved his arms wildly. "Why do you try to stir me all up again ?" he cried. "Can't you let me get my breath?"
Gorham looked at him amazed. "Has anything happened?" he asked.
"The young reprobate! I'll show him. I've cut him off without a penny,
Robert; do you understand—without a penny!"
"You've done what?" Gorham demanded, his face sobering.