Guy hesitated. He looked wistfully at Helen. “Can I do anything for you, Mrs. Briggs?”
Helen shook her head. “Just amuse yourself, that’s all.”
Fanny seized the boy by the arm and drew him toward the steps.
“Guy’s always trying to earn his salary. I never knew anyone that worried so much about it.”
West took a seat on the wicker divan beside Helen. “He’s an exception here in Washington, then, isn’t he?” he remarked.
“He’s a good, conscientious boy. I sometimes wonder if this Washington life isn’t hurting him.”
“There’s so much wickedness here, do you mean?”
“So much wasting time,” Helen replied, seriously.
West drew one of the palm leaves between his fingers. “Don’t you think you are—well, just a little too scrupulous about these matters?” he asked, keeping his eyes turned from Helen’s face.
Helen laughed. “That’s what Douglas is always saying. You aren’t going to blame me, too, are you?”