"Better let me take you straight home," he suggested.
"You promised."
"But to-morrow...."
"To-morrow," she smiled, "always takes care of itself."
"Come. After all, it will be a matter of only a few moments. All I've got to do is to run up to the room and give the Secret Service men their orders. And I'll bring down Malachi. You are sure you want him?"
"Of course I am!" His little green parrakeet!
Later, when they entered Peacock Alley—totally deserted at this hour—he flung his greatcoat into a chair, pinning the green ribbon to the breast of his jacket.
"Suppose you sit here on this divan? I sha'n't be gone more than ten minutes. I ordered the taxi to wait."
"Go along, sailorman. And don't forget Malachi."
He wondered if she realized how easily that name fell from her lips.... Well, day after to-morrow! He marched briskly up to the desk.