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She stroked the boy's head absently.
Graham made an attempt to free himself the next day. He was about
to move his office to the new plant, and he made a determination
not to take Anna with him.
He broke it to her as gently as he could.
"Mr. Weaver is taking my place here," he said, avoiding her eyes.
"Yes, Graham."
"He'll - there ought to be some one here who knows the ropes."
"Do you mean me?"
"Well, you know them, don't you?" He had tried to smile at her.
"Do you mean that you are going to have another secretary at the
plant?"
"Look here, Anna," he said impulsively. "You know things can't
go on indefinitely, the way we are now. You know it, don't you."
She looked down and nodded.
"Well, don't you think I'd better leave you here?"
She fumbled nervously with her wrist-watch.
"I won't stay here if you go," she said finally. "I hate Mr. Weaver.
I'm afraid of him. I - oh, don't leave me, Graham. Don't. I
haven't anybody but you. I haven't any home - not a real home.


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