He reached for the paper, passing Ysobel as if she belonged to the trappings of the room.
"I—I can't—go to-night, Hy."
He read with the sharp eyes of a gray hawk of the world, and drew his coat together in a gesture of buttoning up.
"Don't pull any of that stuff on me, Beauty. Just because the old devil you've been tellin' me about—"
"Oh—you—you—"
"Them ain't real tears—you'd be laughin' in your sleeve if you had any on. Come on; step lively, Beauty. I ain't givin' this blow-out to be made a fool out of. Give her a daub of color there, Du Prez."
"Hy! She was my stepmother, and—"
"Come, Beauty, what you actin' up for? Ain't that doll you've been piping about all these months comin' now that the old woman is out of the way? Bring her on and lemme have a look at her. If she's in your class, lemme look her over."
"Gimme—a minute, Hy. I—I just wanna send—a wire."
"Sure; tell her to come on. I'll send it for you. I'll look her over, and—"