"But doesn’t he want it cheerful?"
"I think it ’ll be more cheerful that way," Polly answered, with a faint smile. "Now, then—thank you! I think I’ll rest until dinner-time."
"But were you satisfied with me?" insisted Angelica.
"Of course I was."
"Well, do you want me to stay? Because he’s coming to talk it over with you. Will you tell him that you want me?"
"Yes," said Polly. "I do want you—very much!"
CHAPTER SIX
I
Angelica was very nervous about having dinner with Mr. Eddie. He was obviously fastidious and hard to please, and she hadn’t the vaguest idea what his standards might be. She did what she could with her appearance; she washed her hands and face and brushed her hair, and then, having no watch or clock to advise her, went down-stairs.
She hadn’t been in the dining-room before, and she stopped, profoundly impressed, in the doorway. It was so exactly the dining-room she had expected—the grand, stately dining-room of the cinema drama, with paneled walls and sideboard loaded with plate, the opulently set table, the high-backed chairs, the flowers all about, the very air of dignity and richness.