The manager merely wanted you to move--into a larger, finer suite, and he is positively distressed at the thought of your leaving.

The poor man is dashing about collecting an armful of roses for you and Allie.

He wants to come in person and apologize." There was another sound and Gray looked up to see Allie standing in the doorway to her bedroom; with one hand she clutched the jamb, the other was pressed to her bosom; she was staring at him as at an apparition.
The girl was quite colorless, there was a look almost of fright in her eyes, and when he came toward her she swayed weakly.

Her hands, when he took them, were icy; it shocked him to see how worn, how weary she had grown.
It was several hours later.

In the parlor of the new suite, a spacious, sunny room, fragrant with flowers and cheerful with brilliant cretonnes, Gray and Briskow were talking.