She laughed tantalizingly.
“Because I know all about you, Mr. Bard,” she replied.
“Me?”
“Certainly. You’re a pal of Max Lee’s, aren’t you?”
His eyes opened with enlightenment.
“Are you Freda MacDowell?” he asked eagerly.
She nodded and teased him with her eyes.
“Of course I am. Max has told me all about you. When I heard the name Bard, to-night, I wondered if you were Mauney.”
“I sure am,” he said, warming up, “and this is a great pleasure, indeed, I—”
“And I was positive it was you,” she interrupted, with a roguish glance at his face, “because Max told me you had an awful head of red hair.”