xxiv
SHE sent in a little note to Charlie on which she had written: “Please see me. It is urgent.” A Chinese boy asked her to wait and brought the answer that Mr. Townsend would see her in five minutes. She was unaccountably nervous. When at last she was ushered into his room Charlie came forward to shake hands with her, but the moment the boy, having closed the door, left them alone he dropped the affable formality of his manner.
“I say, my dear, you really mustn’t come here in working hours. I’ve got an awful lot to do and we don’t want to give people a chance to gossip.”
She gave him a long look with those beautiful eyes of hers and tried to smile, but her lips were stiff and she could not.
“I wouldn’t have come unless it was necessary.”
He smiled and took her arm.
“Well, since you’re here come and sit down.”
It was a long bare room, narrow, with a high ceiling; its walls were painted in two shades of terra cotta. The only furniture consisted of a large desk, a revolving chair for Townsend to sit in and a leather arm-chair for visitors. It intimidated Kitty to sit in this. He sat at the desk. She had never seen him in spectacles before; she did not know that he used them. When he noticed that her eyes were on them he took them off.
“I only use them for reading,” he said.
Her tears came easily and now, she hardly knew
