"I like to know everybody I deal with. We must get better acquainted. You've got the best figure in the business—the very best."
"Thank you," said Susan with a grave, distant smile.
"Got a date for dinner tonight?" inquired he; and, assuming that everything would yield precedence to him, he did not wait for a reply, but went on, "Tell me your address. I'll send a cab for you at seven o'clock."
"Thank you," said Susan, "but I can't go."
Gideon smiled. "Oh, don't be shy. Of course you'll go. Ask
Jeffries. He'll tell you it's all right."
"There are reasons why I'd rather not be seen in the restaurants."
"That's even better. I'll come in the cab myself and we'll go to a quiet place."
His eyes smiled insinuatingly at her. Now that she looked at him more carefully he was unusually attractive for a man of his type—had strength and intelligence in his features, had a suggestion of mastery, of one used to obedience, in his voice. His teeth were even and sound, his lips firm yet not too thin.
"Come," said he persuasively. "I'll not eat you up—" with a gay and gracious smile—"at least I'll try not to."
Susan remembered what Miss Hinkle had told her. She saw that she must either accept the invitation or give up her position. She said: