Her vivid brown eyes were fastened upon his face, eager to understand his attitude, a little defiant, a little appealing. There was nothing to be gathered from his expression, however. After that first moment he was entirely himself—well-mannered, unemotional, cold.
"I came over on the Baltic," she explained, "I guessed I'd find you here.
Fourteenth Street was getting a little sultry. The old man hopped it to San
Francisco the day you left."
"Sit down," he invited.
They found places on a lounge and were served with cocktails. The girl sipped hers disapprovingly.
"Rum stuff, this," she declared. "I guess I'll have to get my shaker out."
"You are staying here, then?" he enquired.
"Why not?" she replied, with a faint note of truculence in her tone. "You know I'm not short of money, and I guessed it was where I should find you."
He raised his eyebrows.
"That is very nice and companionable of you," he said, "and naturally I shall be very glad to be of any assistance possible whilst you are over here, but I hope you will remember, Nora, that I did not encourage you to come."
"I'm wise enough about that," she admitted. "I never expected you to care two pins whether you ever saw me again or not, and I know quite well," she went on hastily, "that I haven't any right to follow you, or anything of that sort. But honestly, Mr. Thew, we were being watched down there, and New York wasn't exactly healthy."