“Was it better?” asked Quincy.
“He said I was labourin' under a misapprihinsion. What's that?”
“He meant that it was improving,” said Quincy, as he hurried from the elevator.
“How did you get home last night?” was Mary's salutation as he entered.
“I groped my way down two flights of stairs in the dark. When I opened the front door by the upper handle as Mr. Cass had kindly instructed me to do, I found that gentleman on the steps. 'Quite late,' said he. 'Not for me,' said I. At that moment my auto drew up at the curb.”
“A narrow escape from a Cass-trophe,” exclaimed Miss Dana. “Pardon the pun, but sometimes he is insufferably loquacious.”
Quincy smiled grimly. “He wasn't through with me. He followed me. 'My employer.' he began, 'is very tenacious on several points, and one of them is the acceleration of matrimonial preliminaries, commonly called courting, in the house which he owns and successfully conducts with my humble assistance. Will you allow me to ask you a question?'
“Alexander had opened the auto door, and I stood with one foot on the step.”
Quincy was silent for a moment. Miss Dana's curiosity was excited.
“What did he ask you to do?”