"My dear Morris," he said, "I must ask you to pull yourself together. You
are out of your own control. Sit down, please, and be silent for a
minute. Then tell me calmly what is the matter."

Morris sat down as he was told, but the calmness was not conspicuous.

"Calm?" he said. "Would you be calm in my circumstances, do you think?"

"You have not yet told me what they are," said Mr. Taynton.

"I've just seen Madge Templeton," he said. "I met her privately by
appointment. And she told me--she told me--"

Master of himself though he was, Mr. Taynton had one moment of
physical giddiness, so complete and sudden was the revulsion and
reaction that took place in his brain. A moment before he had known,
he thought, for certain that his own utter ruin was imminent. Now he
knew that it was not that, and though he had made one wrong conjecture
as to what the unpleasant business was, he did not think that his
second guess was far astray.

"Take your time, Morris," he said. "And, my dear boy, try to calm
yourself. You say I should not be calm in your circumstances. Perhaps I
should not, but I should make an effort. Tell me everything slowly,
omitting nothing."

This speech, combined with the authoritative personality of Mr. Taynton,
had an extraordinary effect on Morris. He sat quiet a moment or two,
then spoke.