“Now you’re offended again?”
“No; only––oh, can’t you see we––I must find another place?”
“No, I don’t,” he answered.
“Then that proves it,” she replied. “And now I’m going back to the office.”
He rose at once to go with her.
“Please to sit right where you are for five minutes,” she begged.
He sat down again and watched her as she hurried out the door. The moment she disappeared the place seemed curiously empty––curiously empty and inane. He stared at the white-tiled walls, at the heaps of pastry upon the marble counter, prepared as for wholesale. Yet, as long as she sat here with him, he had noticed none of those details. For all he was conscious of his surroundings, they might have been lunching together in that subdued, pink-tinted room where he so often took Frances.
He started as he thought of her. Then he smiled contentedly. He must have Frances to lunch with him in the pink-tinted dining-room next Saturday.