St.George would be at his wits' end; Harry would be forced to choose between the sidewalk and Moorlands, and the old life would go on as before.
All these thoughts coursed through his mind as he leaned back in his chair, his lips tight set, the jaw firm and determined--only the lids quivering as he mastered the tears that crept to their edges.

Now and then, in his mental absorption, he would absently cross his legs only to straighten them out again, his state of mind an open book to Gorsuch, who had followed the same line of reasoning and who had brought the news himself that he might the better watch its effect.
"I'm surprised that Temple should select the Patapsco.

It has never got over its last smash of four years ago," Gorsuch at last remarked.

He did not intend to let the topic drift away from Harry if he could help it.
"I am not surprised, John.

St.George is the best fellow in the world, but he never lets anything work but his heart.