Hal laughed again.
“I’ll tell him so, and go armed with a revolver next time.” She noticed an inquiring look in Lorraine’s eyes, and added: “Don’t look so serious, Lorry; he is old enough to be my father. He likes a little amusement, the same as you and Baby Hermon.”
She turned away as she spoke, and did not see the swift deepening of the look of inquiry, nor a certain strange expression that flitted across Lorraine’s face; and almost immediately the door opened, and Alymer Hermon walked in unannounced.
“Hullo, Hal!” he exclaimed—“it’s quite a long time since I ran into you here.”
“Hullo, Baby!” she retorted. “Why, I declare, you are beginning to look quite a man.”
“If you don’t mind I’ll pick you up and carry you all the way down the stairs to the street; then you’ll see if I’m a man or not.”
“Tut; any big creature could do that! Got any briefs yet?”
“I have.”
Lorraine looked up instantly with an eager, questioning glance—while Hal asked gaily:
“What is it?... I suppose the original holder is sick, or dead, or something, and you are a stop-gap.”