It was then that the beaming grin on Rollins's face flickered out for a single instant of incredulity and reproach.
"Why—Miss Woltor!" he choked, "you didn't have your tooth fixed—after all!"
With a great crackle of paper every man's face seemed buried suddenly in the shipping news.
"No!" I heard my Husband's voice affirm with extravagant precision, "not the slightest mention anywhere of any maritime disaster."
"Not the slightest!" agreed George Keets.
"Not the slightest!" echoed Paul Brenswick with what seemed to me like quite unnecessary monotony.
It was the Bride who showed the only real tact. Slipping her hand casually into Ann Woltor's hand she started for the Library.
"Let's go see if we can't find something awfully exciting to read to-day," she suggested. Once across the library threshold her voice lowered slightly. "Really, Miss Woltor," she confided, "there are times when I think that Mr. Rollins is sort of crazy."
"So many people are," acquiesced Ann Woltor without emotion.
Caroming off to my miniature conservatory on the pretext of watering my hyacinths I met my Husband bent evidently on the same errand. My Husband's sudden interest in potted plants was bewitching. Even the hyacinths were amused I think. Yet even to prolong the novelty of the situation there was certainly no time to be lost about Rollins.