what havoc her sweet appealing smile was playing with his resolutions.
He tried to speak and couldn't.
Stella continued, her voice low and musical with childlike tenderness:
"I know that my father was your political foe, but he had the profoundest respect for your ability and your high sense of honour. His death will doubtless remain one of the unexplained tragedies of the troubles through which the country is now passing."
She rose and slowly approached John's chair, her great brown eyes blinding him with their light as she gently laid a white hand on his's houlder.
He started at her touch.
"Mr. Graham," she said, with exquisite tenderness, "life is too short to cherish its bitter feuds."
"Yes," he answered in a whisper barely audible.
"I am utterly alone and distressed over business affairs I do not understand. I have implicit faith in you. I need your help and advice. Will you refuse me what you would grant without question to a stranger who would call at this office and ask?"
John flushed and fumbled his hands nervously.
