As Charlie sank into the big armchair near the fire Max pushed the cigar-box towards him. Then he seated himself, saying:
“Now, old fellow, what are we to do? Marion must be found.”
“She must. But you’ve failed, you say?”
“Utterly,” he sighed. “She was discharged from Cunnington’s—disgraced!”
“Why?”
Max shrugged his shoulders. Both men knew well that the reason of the girl’s disappearance was the shame of her dismissal. Both men knew also that by lifting his finger Sam Statham could have reinstated her—or could at least have had inquiry made as to the truth of what had really occurred.
But he had refused. Therefore both were indignant and angry. During the next half-hour they discussed the matter fully and seriously, and were agreed upon one main point, that Statham had acted against them both in refusing his aid to clear the unfortunate girl.
“Whatever fault she has committed,” declared Max, “the truth should be told. I went to him acknowledging my love for her and beseeching his aid. And yet he has refused.”
“Then let us combine, Max, in trying to discover the truth,” her brother suggested. “Marion shall not be cast aside into oblivion by these drapery capitalists who gain fat profits upon the labour and lives of women.”
“You may imperil your position with Statham if you act without discretion,” remarked Max warningly.