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I hope that I may never see him again!" Graveling, who had reached the door, leaning heavily upon Aaron, turned around. His face, with the streak of blood upon his cheek, was ghastly. He left the room between Aaron and the servant. They heard his unsteady footsteps in the hall, a whistle, the departure of the cab. "Aaron has gone with him," Maraton remarked quietly. "Perhaps it is as well."
The man stared at the coin which he was offered, and looked at the register. "'Ere!" he exclaimed. "You're a nice 'Un, you are!" Graveling turned upon him almost fiercely. "If you want a tip," he said, "go and drive some of these fine ladies and gentlemen about, who've got the money to give. I'm a working man, and luxuries aren't for me. Be off with you, or I'll call a policeman!"
"Richard Graveling," she exclaimed, "I am ashamed to think that I ever let you call yourself my friend! If you do not leave the room and the house at once, I swear that I will never speak to you again as long as I live!" He pushed her aside roughly. "I'll talk to you presently," he declared. "It's him that my business is with now." Maraton's eyes flashed a little dangerously.
He passed out, followed by Weavel. Graveling only lingered upon the threshold. He was looking towards Julia. "Miss Thurnbrein," he said, "can I have a word with you?" "You cannot," she replied steadily. He remained there, dogged, full of suppressed wrath. The sight of her taking her place before the typewriter seemed to madden him.
Aaron and a man servant entered the room simultaneously. Maraton pointed to the figure upon the floor. "Aaron," he said, "your friend Mr. Graveling has met with a slight accident. You had better take him outside and put him in a taxicab." Graveling rose painfully to his feet. He was very pale, and there was blood upon his cheek. He leaned on Aaron's arm and he looked towards Maraton and Julia.
Maraton's face remained impassive. The girl, however, stood suddenly erect. There was a vivid spot of colour in her cheeks. "You had better keep to the truth, Richard Graveling!" she cried fearlessly. "I have never promised to marry you, or if I have, it was under certain conditions. You had no right to follow me here." The young man opened his lips and closed them again.
They all looked at one another a little blankly. Peter Dale grunted with expressionless face and relit his pipe, which had gone out during these few moments of intense listening. Graveling reached out his hand and took a cigar from a box which had been placed upon the table. Henneford and his neighbour exchanged glances, which culminated in a stealthy wink.
Julia smiled but there was a shadow of trouble in her face. "Naturally," she replied. "Mr. Graveling and I are fellow workers." "Yes, we are that," the young man declared pointedly, "that and a little more, I hope.
She walked away with firm footsteps. She felt stronger, more of a woman than she had done all day. Graveling made no attempt to follow her. He sat and smoked in stolid silence. Julia was conscious of a new vitality as she left the Park. She was her own mistress now; her half tie to Graveling was permanently broken. So much the better! The man's personality had always been distasteful to her.
"I only hope that the others will adopt your attitude. I hear that many of them have very decided views about evening dress and small luxuries of any description." "Graveling and Peter Dale especially Dale are terrible," she declared. "Dale is very narrow, indeed. You must bear with them if they are foolish at first. They are uncultured and rough. They do not quite understand.
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