Page:That Royle Girl (Balmer).pdf/131

 rimmed spectacles informed her that Mr. Max Elmen was in and that he was expecting her. The young, bald man led her down a long passage, lit by electric lights and carpeted so that no footfall sounded. Books; fat, broad-backed law books in brown and yellow leather and buckram lined the wall to the left; on the right were more books and closed doors, some of them silent; but talk went on behind others. In one office, a man with a high, squeaky voice was dictating, indignantly, "and since the aforesaid Greenough has been deprived of his liberty. . . ."

The bald young man threw open the door just beyond. "Here she is, papa," he announced.

"Come in," invited Max Elmen's heavy voice, cordially. "Come in, too, Herman. You know my son, Herman?" he asked Joan Daisy, extending his long, tapering hand. "This is Herman; he helps me. Tell him anything you would tell me. Sit there, young lady; sit there, Herman."

There, for Herman, was a chair by the wall; there, for Joan Daisy, was a chair directly opposite Mr. Max Elmen's desk, at which he sat with his back to the light, his big, bald head silhouetted against the window. Max Elmen smiled a huge, expansive smile with his frog-like mouth and, surprisingly, Joan Daisy was put at ease by it. Friendliness radiated to her from papa Elmen, and confidence communicated itself from him to her. Nothing was further from him than the sleepiness which he had exhibited in court.

"Fetch the book, Herman," he bid his son and Herman with alacrity produced an imposing, leather-bound volume which he held open before her, pointing to a paragraph.

"You read it," Max Elmen bid Joan Daisy. "You read it for yourself. It is the statute which defines the