It was not until she laid her hand on his sleeve that he really awoke and was able, in some fashion, to make his adieux. He remembered, afterward, much to his dismay, that he had shaken hands cordially with Lamar, and had invited him to call some day at the office and go over to the City Club with him for luncheon.
When they were gone, the door from the kitchen was opened, and the little, gray-haired, wrinkled-faced old woman who had been there on the day of Barry’s first call looked in.
“Have they all gone?” she inquired.
“All but Steve, mother,” her daughter replied.
“He don’t count,” she said. “Who was the young lady that came first?”
“That was Miss Ruth Tracy.”
“What did she want?”
“She wanted,” replied Lamar, “to capture Mary.”
“What for?”