“I’ve had my hour,” he said, trying to speak lightly.
“You said that just like an actor! Oh, I wish I could teach you how to deal with women!”
“Well, if it comes to that, why is it always up to the man?” demanded Wilfred.
Elaine opened her eyes. “Well, women have to be won, don’t they?”
He spread out his hands. All wrong! All wrong! But he could not dispute her. She had stolen his strength.
“Sit down again,” she said. “You ought to know by this time that I never deal in hints. What I have not yet had a chance to say is, I want you to meet this man. An unusual specimen!”
Wilfred discovered that he still had reserves of pain. Was that the rôle he was to be called upon to play?
Far-off in the great house Wilfred heard the buzz of the door-bell. After an interval the front door opened and closed again with its opulent thud. He entered quickly, thought Wilfred. There were rapid footsteps on the stairs. Coming up two steps at a time. Wilfred’s heart beat suffocatingly. That treacherous heart of his!
“It’s Joe Kaplan,” said Elaine, shielding her face from the fire.
“Oh, Joe Kaplan,” said Wilfred with an air of interest. His belly suddenly failed him. Rising, he caught sight of the grinning, white-faced manikin in the mirror over the fireplace, and quickly lowered his eyes in disgust.