The sound of his steps on the tiles was plainly distinguishable as he passed the door.
"It's all right now," Bassett explained.

"No one will come in here." He threw his arm over the back of his chair and bent upon Sylvia a glance of mingled curiosity and indifference.
"I understand," she said quietly, "that nothing has been done.

It is not yet too late.

The situation here is as it has been ?" "Yes; if you mean out _there_.

They are waiting for me." "I suppose Mr.Harwood is there, and Mr.Thatcher." He blinked at the names and changed his position slightly.
"I dare say they are," he answered coldly.
"I thought it best to see you and talk to you; and I'm glad I knew before it was too late." His eyes surveyed her slowly now from head to foot.