go off by the afternoon
mail, and I must rewrite them first."
He set to work at once, and close application to the task for several
hours brought him into a healthier condition of mind. When he had
finished the task and had taken the papers to the postoffice he
realized that his state of mind had been a morbid one. He realized, too,
that he must end the suspense as quickly as possible, in order that he
might take up work and grow sound of soul again.
Returning to his office he sent a note to Barbara:
I shall go to see you to-night, unless you forbid. I must hear what
more you have to tell me, and I must in my turn tell you something
of myself. When that is done, I shall renew my efforts to win you
to myself. Please send me word that I may come.
For answer, he got the single word "Come," written in the middle of a
page, without address or signature. Thus it came about that while Temple
was sitting in his hotel room, in negotiation with Tandy over a matter
that involved Duncan's future more vitally than any other event had ever
done, Duncan himself sat with Barbara, trying to adjust another matter
which seemed to him of even greater consequence.
Barbara had her emotions in leash, now. Without hesitation, and with a
bravely controlled utterance, she went at once to the marrow of the
matter.
"I told you," she began, "that I am the daughter of a Thief. My father
was trusted absolutely by my grandfather. He betrayed the trust. He made
use of his authority as a member of the banking house, not only to wreck
it in speculation, but also to rob all the people who had entrusted
their money to it. I don't understand such matters very well, but, at
any rate, my father ruined the firm and robbed its customers. At a
single stroke he reduced his father to poverty and forever disgraced his
honorable name. When he found that the facts must become known at once,
my father went home and blew his brains out. I was born that day, and my
mother died of shock and grief within the hour. My poor grandfather
lived for a month, without speaking a word to anybody. Then he quit
living."
"It is a terribly sad story," said Duncan. "I should not have let you
tell it, poor child."
"Oh, but I was obliged to tell you," she interrupted. "It was my duty.
You see--well, you have been so good to me, and I am obliged to say 'no'
to what you asked me before you knew this horrible thing. It wouldn't
have been fair just to s
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