“Good afternoon, Miss Howard,” he said abruptly.
It was Brock who answered.
“You appear to be in haste about something,” he remarked.
“Oh, no. I have no engagement for the afternoon. I just looked in to see if Miss Howard—”
Again it was Brock who answered.
“Miss Howard has an engagement.”
“To—?” Barth queried, as he edged towards Nancy’s side of the table.
Craftily Brock avoided the ambiguous preposition.
“Miss Howard and I are busy together, this afternoon.”
“Oh, really. I am very sorry. I hope I don’t intrude.” And, with the hope still dangling from his lips, Barth plumped himself down on the sofa beside them and felt about for his glasses. As soon as they were found and settled on his nose, he turned to Nancy. “I do hope I’m not in the way,” he reiterated spasmodically.