“May I order a cup of black coffee?” she asked, ignoring the question. She was sorely puzzled.
“Have a big one,” he urged, signalling a waiter.
Her curiosity conquered. “What in Heaven’s name brought you here, Harvey?”
He told her of the word Rachel had given him. Nellie made a mental note of the intention to speak plainly to Rachel.
“Who are your friends?” he asked. Just then he caught a glimpse of Fairfax’s face. He turned very cold.
“Mr. Fairfax is giving a luncheon for two of the grand-opera people,” she explained.
He forced his courage. “I don’t want you to have anything more to do with that man,” he said. “He’s a scoundrel.” 113
“Now, don’t be silly,” she cried. “What train are you going out on?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll stay in. I’ll go up to your flat, I guess, for a couple of days. Phoebe’s all right. She’s over the diphtheria now––”
“Diphtheria?” gasped Nellie, wide-eyed, overlooking his other declaration, which, by the way, was of small moment.