"I may be able to reason with her, Will, but—but she's stubborn, as well you know. I'm afraid you've spoiled everything."
His face brightened. Lowering his voice to a half-whisper, he said: "We needn't tell her what I said to that old chap, Lou. Just let her think I sat around like a gump and never said a word to anybody. We can—"
"But she'll pin you down, Will, and you know you can't lie with a straight face."
"Maybe—maybe I'd better run down to New York for a few days," he muttered unhappily. "You can square it better than I can."
"In other words, I can lie with a straight face," she said ironically.
"I never thought she'd balk like this," said he, ignoring the remark.
"I fancy you'd better go to New York," she said mercilessly.
"I've got business there anyhow," muttered he. "I—I think I'll go before she's up in the morning."
"You can save yourself a bad hour or two if you leave before breakfast," said she levelly.
"Get around her some way, Lou," he pleaded. "Tell her I'm sorry I had to leave so early, and—and that I love her better than anything on earth, and that I'll be back the end of the week. If—if she wants anything in New York, just have her wire me. You say she cried?"