into talking further of this secret his sister saw was weighing heavily.

* * * * *

He was down town half an hour earlier than usual the next morning. But
no one noted it because his habit had always been to arrive among the
first--not to set an example but to give his prodigious industry the
fullest swing. There was in Turkey a great poet of whom it is said that
he must have written twenty-five hours a day. Norman's accomplishment
bulked in that same way before his associates. He had not slept the
whole night. But, thanks to his enormous vitality, no trace of this
serious dissipation showed. The huge supper he had eaten--and drunk--the
sleepless night and the giant breakfast of fruit and cereal and chops
and wheat cakes and coffee he had laid in to stay him until lunch time,
would together have given pause to any but such a physical organization
as his. The only evidence of it was a certain slight irritability--but
this may have been due to his state of intense self-dissatisfaction.

As he entered the main room his glance sought the corner where Miss
Hallowell was ensconced. She happened to look up at that instant. With a
radiant smile she bowed to him in friendliest fashion. He colored
deeply, frowned with annoyance, bowed coldly and strode into his room.
He fussed and fretted about with his papers for a few minutes, then rang
the bell.

"Send in Miss Pritchard--no, Mr. Gowdy--no, Miss Hallowell," he said to
the office boy. And then he looked sharply at the pert young face for
possible signs of secret cynical amusement. He saw none such, but was
not convinced. He knew too well how by a sort of occult process the
servants, all the subordinates, round a person like himself discover the