"Not a bit of course—unless Casey has deceived me shamefully. Can't a man furnish his house better without having a wedding in view?"
"He can, but usually he doesn't. That's my experience."
"I wasn't aware that you were married."
"Married?" cried Farwell. "Me? I'm not. I'm glad of it. I have enough to worry me now. I——" He came to an abrupt stop. "Oh, well, laugh away," he added. "I'll tell you what I thought. I thought you were going to marry Dunne."
Sheila's laughter closed suddenly. "You haven't the least right to think that or say it," she said coldly. "It's strange if I can't help a friend choose a few house furnishings without impertinent comment."
"Oh, come!" said Farwell. "I didn't mean to be impertinent, Miss McCrae. I know I'm too outspoken. I'm always putting my foot in it."
"Very well," said Sheila. "I think you said you wanted to speak to me of my future?"
"Yes. I spoke to your father about selling the ranch. He refused point-blank. What can we do about it?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "'We?' If he told you he won't sell, he won't. I didn't know you had spoken to him."
"Couldn't you persuade him?"