I have been given to understand that you are exceedingly anxious to make my acquaintance. If this is so, I shall be at home when you call to-morrow afternoon. Asking your lenience for this liberty, I remain,
Yours very truly,
Maisie P. Lockwood.
"To-morrow afternoon! Written yesterday! That means the afternoon of to-day.—And why the P—Maisie P. Lockwood? Is that for Pollock, her first husband?—Unusual! A rather naïve person!" Then his face went blank. "She must be a thought-reader! How the dickens did she guess that I wanted to make her acquaintance? I scarcely knew it myself at the time that she wrote this letter."
Crushing the scented sheet in his hand, he tossed it into the empty grate. "My dear lady, if you can read minds so accurately at a distance, be assured of this: to-day I shall be too busy with Terry to have any time to spare on you."
The door from the narrow hall partly opened. "May I come in?"
At sound of her voice, he sprang to his feet, upsetting his chair. She made bold to look in at him. "Why, Tabs, you are a late breakfaster. Daddy told me you were planning to see me at eleven; to save you the trouble, I hurried round."
Like a flurry of March sunshine, Terry entered.