“And what time was it Travers wanted you to meet him here? I’d almost forgotten.”
“At half-past ten,” answered Helen, taken off her 115 guard and submitting unconsciously to his cross-examination.
“Oh, yes, at half-past ten,” he repeated. “That’s right.”
“But you,” pointedly addressing Barnes, “must tell him I may be late.”
“I will,” acquiesced Barnes, a trifle bewildered.
“I hope you will be very late,” cut in Gladwin.
“What do you mean?” she caught him up.
“I mean you have no idea what a mad thing you are going to do.”
“Please”–––she began icily.
“Don’t be angry,” he pleaded. “I’m saying this for your good.”