“Then I’d go,” she advised.
“But I––I want to thank you.”
“For Heaven’s sake, don’t!” she exploded. “I’m busy.”
“Good-night.”
“Good-night.”
He took the Subway back to the Grand Central, and walked from there to the club. Here he found a message from Frances:––
Dad sent up a box for the theater to-night. Will you come to dinner and go with us?
When Don, after dressing, left his house for the Stuyvesants’ that evening, it was with a curious sense of self-importance. He now had the privilege of announcing to his friends that he was in business in New York––in the banking business––with Carter, Rand & Seagraves, as a matter of fact. He walked with a freer stride and swung his stick with a jauntier air than he had yesterday.
He was full of this when, a few minutes before dinner, Frances swept down the stairs.