“You want to see me?” he asked.
“Just a moment, Mr. Secretary, since you’re here,” Harleston responded. “I came particularly to see Carpenter. There has been a plenty doing in that matter, but nothing worthy of report to you—except one thing. Madeline Spencer is in town.”
“The devil she is!” exclaimed the Secretary.
“And as beautiful, as fascinating, as sinuous, and as young as ever.”
“She must be a vision.”
“She is—and an extraordinarily dangerous vision.”
“Only to you impressible chaps!” the Secretary confided. “She is not dangerous to me, be she ever so beautiful, and fascinating, and sinuous, and young. When will you present me?”
“When do you suggest?” Harleston asked.
“Tomorrow, at four?”
“If I can get the lady, certainly.”