CHAPTER XXIV
Milt Goddard saw Philip Rowe's departure. He stepped out of the road to let his car pass and remained beside the ruts watching until it was out of sight.
Rowe could have come but from one place by that road and he hastened on to the big house under Watch Pine, At the door he paused a moment, irresolute, but when he stepped in and saw Helen at her desk his indecision departed; her head was bowed, arms about it and he saw her shudder. For the space of a dozen breaths he stood looking at the girl, sensing her trouble, but in his face appeared no sympathy—only joy!
"Helen, what is it?"
He stepped forward as she sat erect and rose, to walk toward the mantel.
"Nothing," she replied.
He was beside her.
"Don't put me off!" he said with the manner of one who is very certain of himself. "You've got to listen, now. Maybe if you'd listened when I tried to give you warning you wouldn't have been so upset this morning."
His assurance, his evident knowledge of what had happened, startled her.
"Warning? What do you mean? Do you know what has happened?"
"I don't know, but I can make a good guess; and to make a good guess a man has to know something!"
