“I don’t believe so,” he said, making one last stand for the circumspection and decency of the house. “Mr. Stanwood and Mrs. Lumbard find it to their taste evidently, but Mr. Ogden I’m sure does not. I think it is simply disgusting, and if Millicent Duane is honest she will say the same.”
His heat amused Hugh, who caught the glance which the young girl, appealed to, turned to him, involuntarily. He leaned forward and held her there. She could not free herself quickly from that laughing, questioning gaze.
Starting up from her chair she said: “I—I don’t believe I heard it—much.”
“Didn’t hear it!” exclaimed Miss Frink, putting her hands over her own suffering ears.
“I—Grandpa is waiting for me, Miss Frink. If you don’t need me any more—”
“No, child. I don’t need you. Thank you, and run along.”
Millicent swept the room with a vague, inclusive nod, and, going out into the hall, hurried to the stairs, and ran down. Her breath came fast, her eyes were dim and she stumbled. Some one behind her, unheard on the thick covering, caught her. She started and flung a hand across her eyes.
“Did you have your cab wait, Miss Duane?” asked John Ogden.