"No, my dear boy, I'm not going to introduce you," says Yorke, with a smile. "I'm too anxious to be rid of you—and her. See them safe on board the train to-night, and if anything occurs to prevent them going, send me a message to-morrow morning. I'll give you the address——." He stops. "No, never mind. Make them go to-night. Tell her she'll lose her engagement, anything, but see that she goes."
Vinson grins.
"I'll tell her you've gone back to town," he says.
Yorke colors.
"Woodman, spare the lie," he says, with forced levity. "No need to tell her that."
"No, it wouldn't do, come to think of it. She'd find out I'd sold her when she'd got back, and then——." He whistled, significantly. "I like Finetta with her claws in, don't you know. I think you're the only man that's not afraid of her."
Yorke smiles again.
"Well, do what you like," he says. "But go now, there's a good fellow; and for Heaven's sake, don't let her come this way again. We heard her singing!"
Vinson laughs.