“How did what go?” inquired Peggy, kicking off her pumps hastily and sliding them out of sight, under the dressing table.
“Why, the interview with the great Ditto. You make me tired, Peggy—acting just as though you were bored by the best thing that’s happened to either of us yet. And really and truly, you’re just as glad as I am for you. Admit that you are.”
“Not—so wildly,” Peggy made a little grimace, as she flung the rose-colored silk dress into a corner. A moment later her muffled voice came from the bed room, where she was fumbling among her dresses. “I never can find anything I want.”
“Are you looking for your kimono? Going to rest a while, before we get dressed for dinner? Your kimono’s under the bed, Peggy; I saw the blue edge sticking out. Hurry back in here and tell me the news; I’m consumed with curiosity.”
Peggy came back into the study, wearing a blue serge skirt, her head lost to view in a middy blouse in the process of being slipped on. She struggled to the top at last and peered out with pleading eyes.
“Will you go over there with me, Katherine?” she said in a tone she strove to make indifferent.
“Go over there with you? Haven’t you been?”
“I want your company,” Peggy stammered with difficulty, unable to tell the fib that would have been a direct answer to her room-mate’s question.
“Well,” said Katherine, getting up slowly and stretching her arms, “I should say I will.”
And so Peggy, her army reinforced, began her march on Macefield House a second time.