to look longer for the moment—he dared not trust himself to speak.
Merton edged out of the stall toward the buggy and started for the door.
Then Varge turned—sure of himself again.
"Wait!" he commanded curtly. "There is nothing else I want to ask you—but there is something that I have to say. When you leave here to-night, you leave here for the last time—do you understand?" He paused for an instant, holding Merton with his eyes. "You can write Miss Rand from Berley Falls that you are going away, or make any other excuse that you like to account for your visits ceasing abruptly—but they are to cease. That is all."
"And supposing I refuse?"—Merton's tones were ugly.
"Some one will be coming here to look for you in a minute," said Varge calmly. "I will put the horse up."
Stronger than any threat was the quiet assurance of Varge's irrelevant response, and for a moment, with working face, his hands opening and shutting at his sides, Merton stood there; then, with cowed, sullen, whispered words upon his lips, he turned and went out of the door.
