"Well, it's the same Robert Vining!" Mary whispered. "Get him out of here!"
"But——"
"Don't argue about it! Get him out of here!" said Mary. "Do you suppose I want him to come wandering down this way and find me?"
"He will not do that, because——"
"How do you know whether he will or not?" Mary demanded hotly. "Why did he have to come here? It's all his fault—the whole thing's his fault! If he hadn't refused to take me to that beastly old fight and made such a time about it, I'd never have made up my mind to go, anyway!"
"So that's what happened?" Anthony muttered.
"That is what happened. Now get him out of here!" Mary directed. "And do it quickly!"
After all, the unlucky little coincidence was not nearly so serious as she seemed to think. Anthony smiled quite calmly.
"He will not stay very long," said he, "and when he is ready to go I will not detain him, of course. But I can't very well go in and order him out, you know."
Mary, bosom heaving still, looked straight at him with burning eyes.