.

.

not now." She absently wrote on her pad: "He doesn't dare tell me now." Then, with head still bent, she lifted her mischief-making, trouble-breeding brown eyes to his once more.
"I am to come here, of course, to consult you ?" he asked dizzily.
"Mr.Keen will receive you--" "He may be busy." "He may be," she repeated dreamily.
"So--I'll ask for you." "We _could_ write you, Mr.Gatewood." He said hastily: "It's no trouble for me to come; I walk every morning." "But there would be no use, I think, in your coming very soon.

All I--all Mr.Keen could do for a while would be to report progress--" "That is all I dare look for: progress--for the present." During the time that he remained--which was not very long--neither of them spoke until he arose to take his departure.
"Good-by, Miss Southerland.

I hope you may find the person I have been searching for." "Good-by, Mr.Gatewood.