She called the office and left word that she would not be at home. Then, rising, she came slowly back, very subdued, still alarmed at the undisturbed friendship in his look. "I was afraid you wouldn’t come to see such a little virago," she said softly. "I came to see you on a matter of business," he said, without thinking of his words. Her face fell. "Oh, indeed." He drew out his pocketbook and took out the check. "Mr. Garraboy is leaving very suddenly for Europe," he said, turning over the bit of paper. "He has decided to wind up his affairs. He wished me to give you this check in settlement of your account," with him. She stood quite still, her arms behind her back, but her eyes dangerously brilliant. "If it’s only on business you came," she said, breathing deep, "you can keep your check." "But—" "Is it only on business you go to see other women?" He extended the check, and the jealousy Lorraine’s presence had brought him made him seek to hurt her a little more. "Don’t be unreasonable," he said. "If you don’t answer," she said, stamping her foot, "I will tear it into pieces!" A quick, impulsive joy went through him at this revealing anger. "I came because I wanted to see you," he said with a provoking delight in his eyes. "This is of no importance." She took the check, still looking at him, became calmer, smiled, and then with a determined bob of her head, went to place it on her writing-desk. All at once she turned quickly: "But this is signed McKenna!" "That’s a detail." "Your friend McKenna, the detective? Then you forced this out of him?" "It wasn’t very hard." She let the check flutter from her fingers to the desk, thoughtfully considering it, divining slowly what it meant. "I am unreasonable," she said quietly, returning and holding out her hand. "Thank you. Why did you bother—after the way I acted?" "Well, just because," he answered, looking down into her eyes. "So, Garraboy is a defaulter," she said slowly. "I cannot tell you any more." All at once a thought came to her and an anxious frown passed over her forehead. "None of this is your money?" she said quickly. "No." "On your honor?" "Yes." "It is a great thing you have done for me," she said solemnly. "I am very grateful." "Nonsense," he said lightly. "It was no trouble. I would have done it for any one." They were near the great dormer-windows, high above the threaded smoke and gray roofs of the city, now blending into fuzzy masses with the closing of the day. "Well, now that your business is over," she said, but with a new lightness, "I suppose you must be going?" "What do you want me to say?" he said, smiling with a growing feeling of well-being.