“Look here,” he cut in abruptly, “You split my suite and give her one of my rooms.”
The man's eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Her? What do you mean?”
Blair made an impatient gesture.
“Why, this Miss—the teacher, you know. Didn't you just say you hadn't any room for her? Well, I've got three, you know.”
“Yes, but that's altogether a different proposition. You made your reservation weeks ago.”
“But you could still give her one of them, couldn't you?”
Clerks in large hotels listen with patience to a vast number of strange proposals, but at this from Blair, the man opposite eyed him in unflattering amazement.
“But you said, when you wired, you wanted the extra room to work in,” he objected, “and you'll remember, Mr. Blair, that you were pretty emphatic about it, too, at the time. We went to all kinds of trouble to fix that up for you.”
“I can get along all right without it, though,” coolly observed his changeable guest, “and I'd rather she'd have it. It's possible to split suites here, isn't it?” he persisted. “They do at most hotels.”