Tactless as ever, he misunderstood her.
"I may have had one small check in my career," he continued
eagerly, "but the game is not finished. Believe me, I have still
great cards up my sleeve. I know that you have been used to
wealth and luxury. Miss Abbeway," he went on, his voice dropping
to a hoarse whisper, "I was not boasting the other night. I have
saved money, I have speculated fortunately--I--"
The look in her eyes stifled his eloquence. He broke off in his
speech--became dumb and voiceless.
"Mr. Fenn," she said, "once and for all this sort of conversation
is distasteful to me. A great deal of what you say I do not
understand. What I do understand, I dislike."
She left him, with an inscrutable look. He made no effort to open
the door for her. He simply stood listening to her departing
footsteps, listened to the shrill summons of the lift-bell,
listened to the lift itself go clanging downwards. Then he
resumed his seat at his desk. With his hands clasped nervously
together, an ink smear upon his cheek, his mouth slightly open,
disclosing his irregular and discoloured teeth, he was not by any
means a pleasant looking object.
He blew down a tube by his side and gave a muttered order. In a
few minutes Bright presented himself.
"I am busy," the latter observed curtly, as he closed the door
behind him.
"You've got to be busier in a few minutes," was the harsh reply.
"There's a screw loose somewhere."
Bright stood motionless.
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