Part 22 (2/2)
”Isn't that like a man,” said Genevieve, ”to throw away his whole future just because he loses his temper?”
George did not directly answer this question, and his wife went on.
”However, it will be all right. He has seen Betty this afternoon, and she won't let him do anything foolish.”
George glanced at her. ”You mean that Betty will prevent his leaving the firm?”
”Of course she will.”
George walked to the door.
”I seem to owe a good deal to my former stenographer,” he said, ”my wife, my partner; next, perhaps it will be my election.”
CHAPTER X. BY ETHEL WATTS MUMFORD
Penny, pacing the drawing-room with pantheresque strides, came to a tense halt as Remington entered.
”Well?” he said, his eyes hard, his unwelcoming hands thrust deep into his pockets.
That identical ”well” with its uptilt of question had been on George's tongue. It was a monosyllable that demanded an answer. Penny had got ahead of him, forced him, as it were, into the witness chair, and he resented it.
”Seems to me,” he began hotly, ”that you were the one who was going to make the statements--' whether or no,' I believe, we were to continue in partners.h.i.+p.”
”Perhaps,” retorted Penny, with the air of allowing no great importance to that angle of the argument, ”but what I want to know is, _are_ you going to be a square man, and own up you were peeved into being a tyrant? And when you've done that, are you going to tell Betty, and apologize?”
George hesitated, trapped between his irritation and the still small voice.
”Look here,” he said, with that amiable suavity that had won him many a concession, ”you know well enough I don't want to hurt Betty's feelings.
If she feels that way about it, of course I'll apologize.”
His partner looked at him in blank amazement.
”Gad!” he exclaimed as if examining a particularly fine specimen of some rare beetle, ”what a bounder.”
”Meaning me?” snapped George.
”Don't dare to quibble. Look me in the eye.”
There was a third degree fatality about the usually debonair Penny that exacted obedience. George unwillingly looked him in the eye, and had a ghastly feeling of having his suddenly realized smallness X-rayed.
”You know d.a.m.ned well you acted like a cad,” Penny continued, ”and I want to know, for all our sakes, if you're man enough to own it?”
George's fundamental honesty mastered him. Anger died from his eyes. His clenched hands relaxed and began an unconscious and nervous exploration for a cigarette.
”Since you put it that way,” he said, ”and it happens that my conscience agrees with you--I'll go you. I _was_ a cad, and I'll tell Betty so.
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