The office was lit up and Johnson was there when they went in. He and Dane worked till about half-past ten, and then the jobbing man went out. A few minutes later Dane came into the front office. Concentration on the work had cleared his head. He leaned down over Valerie, put his arms about her and raised her face and kissed it. She jumped up, and threw her arms about him. This was the only time when they allowed themselves any lapse of their sternly disciplined emotions.
He held her off and looked at her.
“Valerie, your father is going to be dead against us,” he said quietly. “Now, dear, don’t go off. I know as well as you he has no real right to interfere. But he thinks he has the right of a code, you know. And there’s a good deal to be said for it, and it worries me a little.”
“Dane, I insist that you forget my father and my set and my position, and remember me, just me as I stand here.”
“That’s what I’m doing now, dear.”
“I wonder. But it is what I am doing with you.”
“I wonder,” he repeated, putting his head on one side and peering at her in the beguiling way he had.
“Go away,” she commanded. “Go away at once. I have half an hour’s work yet. Tell dad I’ve gone to bed. He will forget all about me anyway.” Her tone shaded off in regretfulness.
His eyes, considerably softened, regarded her thoughtfully, but he was too pleasantly relaxed to worry about anything. Kissing her once more very lightly he went out.
III
After he had gone Valerie ruthlessly set herself to the remaining work, and at eleven o’clock she was finished.
