CHAPTER IX.
IN THE STREET I A few minutes later, just as Hilda had sealed up the last of the letters, Mr.Cannon issued somewhat hurriedly out of the inner room, buttoning his overcoat at the neck.
"Good night," he said, and took his stick from the corner where he had placed it.
"Mr.Cannon!" "Well ?" "I wanted to speak to you." "What is it?
I'm in a hurry." She glanced at the inner door, which he had left open.

From beyond that door came the voices of Arthur Dayson and the old clerk; Hilda lacked the courage to cross the length of the room and deliberately close it, and though Mr.Cannon did not seem inclined to move, his eyes followed the direction of hers and he must have divined her embarrassment.

She knew not what to do.

A crisis seemed to rise up monstrous between them, in an instant.

She was trembling, and in acute trouble.
"It's rather important," she said timidly, but not without an unintentional violence.
"Well, to-morrow afternoon." He, too, was apparently in a fractious state.