time, entered the outer room of
Darley Roberts' office and, with decided reluctance, approached the
private apartment beyond. The door was open. Seated before the big desk,
shirt-sleeved as usual, Roberts sat working. As the newcomer approached
he wheeled about.

"Come in," he said simply. "I'm glad to see you."

The visitor took a seat by the open window and looked out rather
obviously.

"I just received your note a bit ago," he began perfunctorily, "and
called instead of giving you an appointment, as you asked. It's the least
I could do after last night." He halted, looking at the building opposite
steadily. "I want you to know that I appreciate thoroughly what you did
for me then. I--I'm heartily ashamed, of course."

"Don't speak of it, please," swiftly. "I've forgotten it and I'm sure
Miss Gleason and her father have done the same. No one else knows, so
let's consider it never occurred. It never will again, I'm sure, so
what's the use of remembering? Is it agreed?"

Armstrong's narrow shoulders lifted in silence.

"As for not speaking of it again," he answered after a moment, "yes.
Whether or not in the future, however--I'm not liar enough to promise
things I can't deliver."

"But you can 'deliver,' as you say," shortly. "You know it yourself."

Armstrong shook his head.

"I'm not as bumptious as I was a few years ago," he commented. "I'd have
said 'yes' then undoubtedly. Now--I don't know."

Roberts swung about in his desk chair, the crease between his eyes
suddenly grown deep.

"Nonsense," he refuted curtly. "You're not the first man in the world who
has done something to regret. Every one has in some way or another--and
profited by the experience. It's forgotten already, I say, man. Let it
pass at that, and go ahead as though nothing had happened. By the way,
have you had supper--or do you call it dinner?"

For the first time Armstrong looked at the speaker and, forgetting for
the instant, he almost smiled. The question was characteristic.

"I've already dined, thank you," he said.

Without comment Roberts called up the _cafe_ and ordered delivered his
customary busy-day lunch of sandwiches and coffee.

"I'm going East on the eleven-fifty limited to-night," he explained, "and
there are several things I've got to see to first." In voluntary
relaxation from work he slipped down in the big chair until his head
rested on the back. Thereafter for a long time, for longer doubtless than
he realized,