Slowly his hand dropped
away from the envelope and he left it lying forgotten on the desk
as he picked up piece after piece of blotting paper, glancing
intently at each and finally, pulling open a drawer of his desk,
he hunted in feverish haste for a hand-mirror.
Some ten minutes later Kent rose, placed the papers he had been
examining in the inside pocket of his coat and, using the private
entrance from his office into the corridor, he hurried away.
When Helen McIntyre entered the office of Rochester and Kent for the
second time that afternoon she found Sylvester transcribing
stenographic notes on his typewriter.
"Mr. Kent is expecting you, miss," he said, holding open the inner
office door, and with a courteous word of thanks, Helen passed the
clerk and the door closed behind her. Kent rose at her approach
and bowed formally.
"Take this chair," he suggested, and not until she was seated did
Helen realize he had placed her where the light fell full upon her.
"I asked you to come here," he began, as she waited for him to speak,
"Because I must have your confidence - if I am to aid you.
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