If you don't I'll burst
out before him. I can't hold in any longer."
"Very well. That'll do, Walter," acquiesced Grant. "And please go
and bring us some breakfast. I'll finish dressing afterward."
As soon as the door closed on the valet, Craig said, "Grant, I've
got myself into a frightful mess. I want you to help me out of
it."
Grant's eyes shifted. He put on his white silk pajamas, thrust his
feet into slippers, tossed the silk-lined linen robe about his
broad, too square shoulders, and led the way into the other room.
Then he said: "Do you mean Margaret Severence?"
"That's it!" exclaimed Craig, pacing the floor. "I've gone and got
myself engaged--"
"One minute," interrupted Arkwright in a voice so strange that
Joshua paused and stared at him. "I can't talk to you about that."
"Why not?"
"For many reasons. The chief one--Fact is, Josh, I've acted like a
howling skunk about you with her. I ran you down to her; tried to
get her myself."
Craig waved his hand impatiently. "You didn't succeed, did you?
And you're ashamed of it, aren't you? Well, if I wasted time going
round apologizing for all the things I'd done that I'm ashamed of
I'd have no time left to do decently.
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