ORDERED TO BITCHE
ROY forgot everything except the affair on hand. He dashed upstairs and into the salon at a headlong pace, knocking over a chair as he entered. It fell with a crash, and Roy stopped short. Denham was on the sofa, no one else being present except Lucille, who, with her bonnet on, as if she were going out, had just taken an empty cup from his hand.
"Roy, you unkind boy," she said, turning with a look of positive anger. "How you can do it!"
"I'm sorry. I didn't remember. Isn't Den better?"
"Not remember! But you ought to remember. So without thought! It is selfishness."
For Lucille to be seriously displeased with Roy was an event new in his experience, and Roy gazed with astonished eyes.
"No matter," interposed Denham. "Had a good time, Roy?"
"I've seen lots of people. Den, I'm sorry—really. I didn't mean—"
"No, of course not. It's all right."
"Where is my father?" Roy asked in a subdued voice.