"Mr. Tetlow--one moment, please."

He went back to his den, Tetlow startling and following like one on the
way to the bar for sentence. "Mr. Tetlow," he said, when they were shut
in together, "you are making a fool of yourself before the whole
office."

"Be a little patient with me, Mr. Norman," said the head clerk humbly.
"I've got another place for her. She's going to take it to-morrow.
Then--there'll be no more trouble."

Norman paled. "She wishes to leave?" he contrived to articulate.

"She spoke to me about leaving before I told her I had found her another
job."

Norman debated--but for only a moment. "I do not wish her to leave," he
said coldly. "I find her useful and most trustworthy."

Tetlow's eyes were fixed strangely upon him.

"What's the matter with you?" asked Norman, the under-note of danger but
thinly covered.

"Then she was right," said Tetlow slowly. "I thought she was mistaken. I
see that she is right."

"What do you mean?" said Norman--a mere inquiry, devoid of bluster or
any other form of nervousness.