“I want to be sure because if any important mail should come for you I could send it there to meet you on your way back. Algonquin Inn—I’ll remember that. Then off to-morrow morning—it’ll be lovely in the woods now.”
“Any place would be lovely after this beastly hole.”
“Beastly hole! I thought you liked it!”
“Did you? Take another guess.”
“You expected to like it. You wanted to come.”
He made no answer, but slanting his body sidewise with an air of ostentatious endurance, took out his watch and looked at it. She ignored the hint—you couldn’t be sensitive with Joe—and leaning toward him asked:
“What’s the matter, Joe?”
“Matter—with what?”
“You! Has anything happened?”
“Oh, no, nothing’s happened.” His words were mincingly soft. “What could happen with such a charming lot of people and Miss Saunders playing the star rôle in the performance and out.”