"It is only a fancy," he said, scarcely knowing what he was saying.
"I don't think so, Stephen."
But he could not meet her candour, and he sat, silent, miserable, staring at the papers on his desk.
After a while she drew a deep, even breath, and rose to her feet.
"I'm sorry," she said simply.
"Marion--I never dreamed that--"
"You should dream truer," she said. There was a suspicion of mist in her clear eyes; she turned abruptly to the window and stood there for a few moments, looking down at her brougham waiting in front of the house. "It can't be helped, can it!" she said, turning suddenly.
He found no answer to her question.
"Good-bye," she said, walking to him with outstretched hand; "it's all in a lifetime, Steve, and that's too short for a good, clean friendship like ours to die in. I don't think I'd better come again. Look me up for a gallop when you're fit. And you might drop me a line to say how you're getting on. Is it all right, Stephen?"
"All right," he said hoarsely.
Their hands tightened in a crushing clasp; then she swung on her spurred heel and walked out, leaving him haggard, motionless. He heard the front door close, and he swayed forward, dropping his face in his hands, arms half buried among the papers on his desk.
Plank found him there, an hour later, fumbling among the papers, and at first feared that he read in Siward's drawn and sullen face a premonition of the ever-dreaded symptoms.
"Quarrier has telephoned asking for a conference at last," he said abruptly, sitting down beside Siward.
"Well," inquired Siward, "how do you interpret that--favourably?"
"I am inclined to think he is a bit uneasy," said Plank cautiously. "Harrington made a secret trip to Albany last week. You didn't know that."
"No."
"Well, he did. It looks to me as though there were going to be a ghost of a chance for an investigation. That is how I am inclined to consider Harrington's trip and Quarrier's flag of truce. But--I don't know. There's nothing definite, of course. You are as conversant with the situation as I am."
"No, I am not. That is like you, Plank, to ascribe to me the same business sense that you possess, but I haven't got it. It's very nice and considerate of you, but I haven't it, and you know it."
"I think you have."
"You think so because you think generously. That doesn't alter the facts. Now tell me what you have concluded that we ought to do and I'll say 'Amen,' as usual."