“You’re up?” he said. “No one else seems to be. I’ve been riding all over town trying to find my way. What I thought was that maybe you would like to ride; there is another horse up at the house. I had it saddled in case I found anyone. I want to see what it’s like around here. Are you too busy?”
“Fine, no, come on in. I’ll be ready in a second.” The hysteria had departed. Until the next letter. Meantime there were all the playboys and the parties.
Blake stepped in, looking around with equal interest in everything, the bed with colored blankets tossed in the middle and the dusty bits of art.
“Is it yours?” he asked, looking at the picture. “I like it. Don’t you? It’s almost finished: weren’t you working on it? Didn’t I really interrupt?”
“No,” said the Madden boy, crushing a piece of paper and throwing it into the fire, “I wasn’t going to finish it. Chuck me that boot, will you?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Gin dropped her suitcase to the porch with a loud sigh, fished in the rusty mailbox to no avail, and fumbled with her key at the lock. The door swung open at her touch. She stared at Flo, who was garbed in the green kimono that was signal of a rest-day, and who stared back in gloomy impassivity. Her lips were puffed and her eyes were red.
“Hello!” cried Gin. “Why are you here?”
“Well, guess.” Flo shuffled over to the sofa and a pile of stockings that needed darning. “I got up early this morning and went down to the office, all ready and waiting. I’ve been packed for two days, I was so excited.”
“I know.”