“Where?” said she, looking at him narrowly.
“In his office. You would like to meet him, Madeline?”
“I don’t know what your play is,” she laughed, “but I’ll meet him—and take my chances. From all I can learn, the gentleman isn’t much but bumptiousness and wind. To either you or me, Guy, he should be easy.”
“The play,” Harleston explained, “is that the Secretary has heard of you and wishes to see the remarkable woman who—almost upset a throne.”
“His wish shall be gratified,” she shrugged. “Will you come for me, or am I to go to him—a rendezvous à deux?”
“I’ll escort you to him—afterward it will depend on you.”
“Very good!” she replied—“but all the same I wonder what’s the game.”
“The Secretary’s wish and curiosity is the only game,” he replied.
“Far be it from me to balk either—when something may result of advantage to your—”
“—beautiful and fascinating self,” he interjected.