He had nearly got there, was just reaching his man-to-man finale, when
the judges cut him short.
"One moment, Mr. Dale."
The nice young man had come in, and was talking both to Sir John and
the Colonel.
"Thank you. Just for a moment."
Of his own accord Dale had gone back to the window.
It was all over. Never mind about the end of the speech. Nothing could
have been gained by saying it. The tension of his nerves relaxed, and
a wave of sick despair came rolling upward from viscera to brain. He
knew now with absolute certainty that right was going to count for
nothing; no justice existed in the world; these men were about to
decide against him.
"Yes,"--and the young man laughed genially--"he said I was to offer
his apologies."
Dale listened to the conversation at the table without attempting to
understand it. Somebody, as he gathered dully, was demanding an
interview. But the interruption could make no difference. It was all
over.
"He said he wouldn't take 'No' for an answer."
Then they all laughed; and Sir John said to the young man, "Very well.
Ask him in."
The young man went out, leaving the door open; and Dale saw that the
secretary had risen and brought another chair to the table.
Pages:
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79