Brainard entered. It seemed ridiculous for him to talk to himself.
"If the microphone works," he said at length, "rap on the desk twice."
Then he added, half laughing to himself, "If it doesn"t, rap once--Constance."
A single rap came in answer.
"If you couldn"t hear," he smiled entering her office, "why did you rap once!"
"It didn"t work smoothly on that last word."
"What--Constance?"
He thought there was a subtle change in their relations since the microphone incident. At any rate she was not angry. Were they not partners?
"I think it will be better if I turn that microphone around," she remarked. "I placed it face downwards. Let me change it."
Again he helped her as she jumped up on the board room table. This time his hand lingered a little longer in hers and she did not withdraw it so soon. When she did there was a quick twinkle in her eyes as she straightened the microphone and offered her hand to him again.
"Jump!" he said, as if daring her.
A moment she paused. "I never could take a dare," she answered.
She leaped lightly to the floor. For just a moment she seemed about to lose her balance. Then she felt an arm steadying her. He had caught her and for an instant their eyes met.
"Well, Rodman--I scarcely thought it was as brazen as this!"
They turned in surprise.
Mrs. Brainard was standing in the doorway.
She was a pet.i.te blonde little woman of the deceptive age which the beauty parlors convey to thousands of their a.s.siduous patrons.
For a moment she looked coldly from one to the other.
"To what am I indebted for the pleasure of this unexpected visit, Sybil?" asked Brainard with sarcastic emphasis. "I shall finish those letters to-morrow, Miss Dunlap. You need not wait for them."
He held the door to his own office open for Mrs. Brainard.
Sybil Brainard shot a quick glance at Constance. "Well, young lady,"
she said haughtily, "do you realize what you are doing and with whom you are?"
"It isn"t necessary, Sybil, to bother about Miss Dunlap. The lights were out of order and I found Miss Dunlap standing on the table trying to fix them. You came just in time to see her jump down. By the way, Worthington seems to be another who works late. He left only a few minutes ago."
Constance pa.s.sed a restless night. To have got wrong at the very start worried her. Over and over she thought of what had happened. And always she came back to one question. What had Brainard meant by that reference to Worthington?
He came in late the next day, however. Still, there was no change in his manner as he greeted her. The incident had not affected him, as it had her. Neither of them said anything about it.
A young man had been waiting to see Brainard and as he entered he asked him in.
Just then Sheppard walked casually through the reception room and into the board room.
Constance quickly closed her door. She heard the young man leave Brainard"s office but she was too engrossed to pay attention to anything but the voices that were coming through the microphone. She was writing feverishly what she heard.
"Yes, Sheppard, I saw her again last night."
"Where?"
"She was to meet me here, but he stayed later than usual with that new secretary of his. So I cut out and met her at the street entrance."
"And?"
"I told her of the new secretary. She did just what I wanted--came up here--and, say Sheppard--what do you think? They were in this room and he had his arms about her!"
"The letters are all right, are they? How much did you have to pay the Leblanc girl?"
"Twenty thousand. That"s all charged up against the pool. Say, Leblanc is--well--give you my word, Sheppard--I can hardly blame Brainard after all."
"You ARE the last word in woman haters, Lee."
Both men laughed.
"And the letters?"
"Don"t worry. They are where they"ll do the most good. Sybil has them herself. Now, what have you to report? You saw the district attorney?"
"Yes. He is ready to promise us all immunity if we will go on the stand for the state. The criminal business will come later. Only, you have to play him carefully. He"s on the level. A breath of what we really want and it will be all off."
"Then we"ll have to hold the stock up, as though nothing was going to happen."
They had left the board room.
Constance hurried into Brainard"s office. He was sunk deep in his chair reading some papers.
"What"s the matter?" she asked.
"She has entered a suit for divorce. That young man was a process server."
"Yes."
"You are named as co-respondent along with Blanche Leblanc."
"I?"
"Yes. It must have been an afterthought. Everything is going--fortune, reputation--even your friendship, now, Constance--"
"Going? Not yet."
She read hastily what she had overheard.