"No, I wasn't." He was bending over her, a courtly flattery in his gaze.
"But I wrote you!" She turned clear about on her chair, forgetting for the moment the pain in her foot, her eyes and mouth wide open with surprise at the thought that she could be thus forgotten.
"No, you didn't write me. You see, I'm only a guest, just as you are."
Here they both laughed, while Townsend placed a chair close to hers and sat down beside her.
Mrs. Davis prolonged her giggle and bent her head, her eyes seeking his under her heavily beaded lashes. "And I said—Oh!" She put her two hands to her mouth and sidled, "I took you for the clerk."
He nodded indulgently.
"Oh, and I made you pay the driver! I couldn't allow that. Just as soon as somebody comes I'll return it. I hope you'll forgive me." By this time her manner was as friendly as Townsend's feminine-loving soul could wish. She sidled her chair a little closer to his, still holding him with her eyes, wide as the innocent stare of a baby.
"I'm glad it happened," said Townsend.
"Will you allow me to introduce myself properly?"
She nodded, and he got up and went to the desk, returning with one of his campaign cards and handing it to her. "Permit me," he said, "my card." As she took it from him he explained, "I'm candidate for judge at the next election."