“A favor.”
“Of course. Why, you can even touch me if you want to.”
“I wonder if your—if Mrs. Burt would invite Mrs. Ashton Welles to dinner?”
“I guess so. I'll ask her.”
“That way you could meet Mrs. Welles, and—”
“You mean,” said Frank, trying to look like Sherlock Holmes, “I could ask her about your—about her sister?”
Jerningham jumped to his feet in consternation.
“Great Scott, no! No!” he shouted.
“Why, I thought—”
“You can't ask her that until you know her so well that you can take a friend's liberty. Promise me you won't ask her until I myself tell you that you may! Promise!”