"A man's best friends are like a man's good wife; they do not desert him, whatever happens; he deserts them. And so it was with Challoner."
"And so at the last he has no friends?"
"Evidently not, save a flock of vampires that feed upon his purse and will continue to feed so long as he has a purse." He pulled out his watch. "But," he protested, "I am wasting time—I—Oh, pardon me," he quickly corrected, flushing with embarrassment, "I did not mean my time, exactly; but frankly, I must see Mrs. Challoner."
Shirley shook her head.
"Miriam Challoner is ill, much too ill to see any one. She gave orders——"
"Excuse me, but Mrs. Challoner is not too ill," persisted Murgatroyd, "to walk from room to room. My men have seen her through the windows. I wish you would say to her, please, that I must see her."
Seeing the futility of resisting further, Shirley made a movement to go.
"Oh, I can't tell her!" she cried. "I'll ring for Stevens." She rang. "Stevens," she said, as he came into the room, "will you tell your mistress—Oh, I can't—I can't," she faltered.
Murgatroyd stepped into the breach.
"I am the prosecutor of the pleas," he said to Stevens, "tell her that, and that I'm sorry to disturb her, but I must see her."