"Not at all," said Edgar, very politely, stepping to the ground. "But won't you tell me why you wanted to see me? And there are one or two other things, by the way—"
Patricia groaned.
"I can't argue with you to-night," she said, as if in a goaded voice of exhaustion.
"Will you argue with me to-morrow?"
"I'll never argue with you!" vehemently exclaimed Patricia. He did not believe her. He thought she would always argue with him. "And I'm not sure that I want to see you to-morrow."
"Very well," said Edgar quietly. He took off his cap, and stepped back into the car.
"What time?" cried Patricia.
He leaned forward.
"You're a silly little thing!" he said. "But as to-morrow is Saturday, and I shall not go to the office at all, I'll call for you in this at ten o-clock, and take you to some thoroughly vulgar and third-rate hotel for lunch, and then I'll explain—I won't argue; but I'll explain—what's the matter with you."
And with that he used his mechanical starter, closed the door of the car, and would have driven off. But Patricia had come round to the open window of the car.