He stopped at a telegraph office and wrote her a note telling her to meet him that afternoon at three in the old place opposite the Greek Church. This he sent by messenger and then he pondered a rearrangement of his plans. He would only have to shift their departure on a few hours—say till Wednesday noon. He had heard at the railway office there was a slow local for Reno at midday. They could take this, and though it was a day train there would be little chance of their being noticed, as the denizens of Chrystie's world and his own always traveled by the faster Overland Flyer.
As he saw her approaching across the plaza his uneasy eye discerned from afar the fact that she was perturbed. Her face was anxious, her long swinging step even more rapid than usual. And, "Oh, Boyé!" she grasped as they met and their hands clasped. "Has anything happened?"
It was not a propitious frame of mind, and he drew one of her hands through his arm, pressing the fingers against his side as they walked toward the familiar bench. There gently, very gently, he acquainted her with the version of the situation he had rehearsed: a business matter—she wouldn't understand—but something of a good deal of importance had unfortunately been postponed from that afternoon till Wednesday morning. It was extremely annoying—in fact, maddening, but he didn't see how it was to be avoided. She looked horrified.
"Then what are we to do—put it off?"
"Yes, until Wednesday at noon. There's a slow train we can get. There's no use waiting till evening."
She turned on him aghast.
"But the Barlows? What am I to do about them? I've told Lorry I was going there on Tuesday."
"Darling girl, that's very simple. You've had a letter to say they don't want you till Wednesday."
"But, Boyé," she sat erect, staring distressfully at him, "I've told
Lorry the party was on Tuesday night. That's what they've asked me for.
Now how can I say they don't want me?"
He bit his lip to keep down his anger. Why had he allowed her to do anything—why hadn't he written it all down in words of one syllable?