“What is it?”
“That you ask Miss Gerald to dance!”
“But—” he began, disconcerted as well as surprised.
“That’s the condition.”
“She would only refuse.” Gloomily.
“Do you agree?” There was something almost wistful in the temperamental eyes of little pal at that moment.
“I—can’t.” Desperately.
“Very well. Take back the—”
“All right. I will,” Bob half-groaned.
As he walked over toward Gwendoline Gerald, he saw the temperamental little thing moving toward the stairway. Half-way up, she stopped and looked back over the banister. Perhaps she wanted to see if Bob was fulfilling his part of the contract.