O Lord, Lord! Here was another one!
"No," he said positively. "Think of you as I do of Fifi! No, no! No, I do not."
"I don't mean to ask if you think of me as you do of Fifi. Of course I am sure you don't. I only mean—let me put it this way: Do you believe that I have your—interests at heart, and would like to do anything I could to help you?"
He thought this over warily. Doubtless doomed Smathers would have smiled to note the slowness with which his great rival's mind threshed out such a question as this.
"If you state your proposition in that way, I reply, tentatively, yes."
"Then can you spare me half an hour to-night after supper?"
"For what purpose?"
"For you and me," she smiled. "I'd like you to come and see me, at my house, where we could really have a little talk. You see, I know Colonel Cowles very well indeed, and I have read the Post for oh, many, many years! In this way I know something about the kind of articles people here like to read, and about—what is needed to write such articles. I think I might make a suggestion or two that—would help. Will you come?"
After somewhat too obvious a consideration, Queed consented. Sharlee thanked him.
"I'll put my address down on the back of that paper, shall I? And I think I'll put my name, too, for I don't believe you have the faintest idea what it is."