And Bill did. His eyes widened for an instant and his cheeks reddened. Then he laughed.
"That one landed good and plenty," he said admiringly. "I like the way you snap your punches. Next time I'll know when it's coming. A second ago I wasn't sure whether you were going to continue the footwork or step in and hang one on me."
"What in the world——" Mary faltered in her bewilderment.
"It's just a way of apologizing," he explained. "It's what you might call an allegorical apology. I don't know just how they would say it in society, but whatever they say goes. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings by teasing you."
"Oh, it's all right," said Mary hastily, although she noted that he was sorry for hurting her feelings, not because he had been teasing.
"I'll try to remember after this," continued Bill. "Of course, you really stirred things up yourself by saying I ought to start right away. You don't seem to realize what a job it's going to be. I can't help you any. When I think of the amount of creative work that's falling on your shoulders I stagger in sympathy, Miss Norcross. Honestly I do. No; I'm not joshing you again. I'm serious. Where do you begin to get a guy like me into society? How do I pry in? What have I got to do to be saved?"
Mary smiled in spite of a determination to maintain a dignified view-point.
"It will not be so difficult as you think. I'm quite sure of that, Mr. Marshall. If I may suggest——"
As she stopped she was looking in the direction of the door. Bill turned and beheld his valet, standing well inside the threshold. Pete was meek and smug, his hands clasped in front of him, as he fetched an obsequious bow.
"Knock before you enter a room," said Bill sharply.