"I'll run along," said Anita. "You better settle with Buddy. He's probably heard from Old Man River."
In Buddy's office sat Mr. Lowell. His face was white, his beard seemed whiter. Buddy excused himself and left Ken with the old man.
"Sit down, Kenneth," Mr. Lowell said. Kenneth sat down, completely calm.
"I came to ask your forgiveness," Mr. Lowell spoke slowly, as if a trace of bitter water lingered in his mouth. "I was drunk last night. Where did you sleep?"
"In the servant's quarters," Ken replied.
"I came myself to get you. I want you to come home."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Lowell. I can't go with you."
So quietly did this statement come that Mr. Lowell did not take it for the emphatic refusal which it was. He spluttered and could not reply.
"I thank you for everything, sir," Ken continued. "I'd like the clothes you bought for me."
"Where are you going? What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to stay here in Hollywood."
"I see." The old man picked up his hat. "Very well, I'll have Johnson deliver your clothes to you. Where shall I have them sent?"
"Send them here, sir. And thank you very much."
Mr. Lowell, who did not seem nearly so tall as on that day when Ken sat beside him in the Packard driving through the state of Texas, left the room, closing the door behind him.
