“This is Thursday,” said Jones. “The check, and your note, should reach the Trust Company in the same mail to-morrow morning; they can be depended upon to wire promptly, I presume?”
“Undoubtedly!”
“Then, we may be able to release you to-morrow night, certainly by Saturday.”
“It can’t come too soon for us.”
“You don’t seem to like our hospitality,” Jones observed.
“It’s excellent of its sort, but we don’t fancy the sort—you understand, monsieur. And then, too, it is frightfully expensive.” 319
“We have done the best we could under the circumstances,” he smiled. “Until Saturday at the latest—meanwhile, permit me to offer you a very hopeful farewell.”
Elaine smiled sweetly, and Mr. Jones went out.
“Why do you treat him so amiably?” Davila asked. “I couldn’t, if I would.”
“Policy,” Elaine answered. “We get on better. It wouldn’t help our case to be sullen—and it might make it much worse. I would gladly shoot him, and hurrah over it, too, as I fancy you would do, but it does no good to show it, now—when we can’t shoot him.”