He wavered, selecting some form of expression that might shadow forth
what was passing in his mind.

"I'm afraid of making any promises I mightn't be able to keep."

Man's vacillation is Fate's determination, and Miss Harden was as firm
as Fate. He felt that the fine long hands playing with the catalogue
were shaping events for him, while her eyes measured him with their
meditative gaze.

"I must risk that," she said. "I should lose more than three days in
finding a substitute, and I think you will do the work as I want it
done."

"And supposing I can't do it in time?"

"Will you do your best--that's all?"

"Certainly; whatever I do, I shall do my best. And if I fail you--"

Left unfinished, hanging in mid air, the phrase suggested the vague
phantasmal contingencies for which he could find no name.

"I am willing to take the risk."

Her phrase too was satisfying. Its generous amplitude covered him like
a cloak.

"But we haven't arranged anything about terms."