“Good-by, Lee,” she said pleasantly. But he did not answer or take her hand. He left the room in silence.
When the door had shut behind him, Christine glanced at her remaining visitor. “And now,” she said, “I suppose you are wishing you had not.”
“What sort of a woman are you?” Riatt exclaimed. “Will you take any man that offers, me or Hickson, or Linburne or me again, just as luck will have it?”
“I take the best that offers, Max—and that’s no lie.”
The implied compliment did not soften Riatt. He went on: “If you and I are really to be married—”
“If, my dear Max! What could be more certain?”
“Since, then, we are to be married, you must tell me exactly what has taken place between you and Linburne.”
“With pleasure. Won’t you sit down?” She pointed to a chair near her own, but Riatt remained standing. “Shall we have tea first?”
“We’ll have the story.”
“Oh, it’s not much of a story. Lee and I have known each other since we were children. I suppose I always had it in mind that I might marry him—”