Only Adelaide had been unfathomable.
After he had read the letter and thought over the situation, he sent for Pringle, and gave orders that when Mr.Wayne came he would see him.
Pringle did not exactly make an objection, but stated a fact when he replied that Mrs.Farron had given orders that Mr.Wayne was not to be allowed to see Miss Severance.
"Exactly," said Farron.

"Show him here." Here was his own study.
As it happened, Adelaide was sitting with him, making very good invalid's talk, when Pringle announced, "Mr.Wayne." "Pringle, I told you--" Adelaide began, but her husband cut her short.
"He has an appointment with me, Adelaide." "You don't understand, Vin.

You mustn't see him." Wayne was by this time in the room.
"But I wish to see him, my dear Adelaide, and," Farron added, "I wish to see him alone." "No," she answered, with a good deal of excitement; "that you cannot.
This is my affair, Vincent--the affair of my child." He looked at her for a second, and then opening the door into his bedroom, he said to Wayne: "Will you come in here ?" The door was closed behind the two men.
Wayne was not a coward, although he had dreaded his interview with Adelaide; it was his very respect for Farron that kept him from feeling even nervous.
"Perhaps I ought not to have asked you to see me," he began.
"I'm very glad to see you," answered Farron.

"Sit down, and tell me the story as you see it from the beginning." It was a comfort to tell the story at last to an expert.

Wayne, who had been trying for twenty-four hours to explain what underwriting meant, what were the responsibilities of brokers in such matters, what was the function of such a report as his, felt as if he had suddenly groped his way out of a fog as he talked, with hardly an interruption but a nod or a lightening eye from Farron.