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It was a moment of complete reaction. The sight of the broad shoulders of the real estate man’s clerk, with his dark, mild eyes and mild, almost gentle manner, did that for the troubled women which no effort of their own could have achieved. The pressure of despairing thought was flung into the background in face of the urgency of the thing which this man’s arrival heralded. Even, perhaps, because of the enormity of the trouble which had befallen, this man’s coming was of greater significance.

The mother remained unmoving. But Claire bravely faced the newcomer with a smile that had no inspiration from any pleasurable emotion.

“How do, Mr. Forner,” she said, with a cheerfulness that had seemed impossible seconds ago. “Guess you’ve come along for my mother’s answer? Will you come right in?”

Then she turned swiftly to the woman at the stove. She moved over to her and stood close beside her as though to protect her as the man obeyed her invitation.

“I’m kind of sorry, dear,” she said quickly. “I didn’t tell you about it before because—because—Mr. Booker offered you two thousand dollars for that city block he has a mortgage on. Guess Mr. Forner has ridden out for his answer.”