After all, it was you who received the telegram, so you naturally meet her; but you will bring her here, father.

You won't whisk my darling down to Elmtrees till you have blessed me with the sight of her." "I will not be so cruel, fond lover," said old Wardlaw, laughing, and took up his hat and gloves to go.
Arthur went to the door with him in great anxiety, lest he should question Burtenshaw.

But, peering into the outer office, he observed Burtenshaw was not there.

Michael had caught his employer's anxious look and conveyed the banker into the small room where the short-hand writer was at work.

But Burtenshaw was one of a struggling firm; to him every minute was an hour.