"Don't let it hurt, Stephanie," he pleaded, taking her hand. "It will all come right very soon—very soon, I'm persuaded."
"By what?"
"By the natural turn of events—they can't go against you much longer."
"The only turn that would help me would be for Porshinger to die suddenly—and Lorraine to become reasonable and give me my freedom."
"If Porshinger were to die suddenly," he repeated thoughtfully. "Yes, that might clarify the matter very much. Unfortunately Porshinger isn't cultivating death these days—he has quit shooting wells, you know."
"And he hasn't any cause to shoot himself," she remarked.
"He has plenty of causes but he won't recognize them!" Pendleton smiled.
The Postlewaite carriage drove up with a flourish, and Mrs. Postlewaite descended with heavy dignity and becoming condescension. Her arrival was an event at the Club-house—only equalled by the arrival of the other Queen P; and she was fully aware of the fact.
The doorman and a couple of "buttons" danced out—and continued to dance during the royal progress inward—while a crowd of her satellites, who were on the piazza, rushed forward to meet her.
"It is very amusing—Mrs. Postlewaite's assumption of greatness," Pendleton remarked.