Now, a woman can always forgive a man for being late, if she knows he started on time, so with this reassurance I began to feel at home with him. I leaned over and stirred the fire hospitably—to keep my eyes from showing just how thoroughly at home I felt.
"No—you are not early. I was expecting you at four, and—and mother will be down presently."
He studied my profile.
"I was out at the golf club dance last night," he said, after a pause, with a certain abruptness which I had found characterized his more important parts of speech. I stood the tongs against the marble mantlepiece and drew back from the flame.
"Was it—enjoyable?" I asked politely.
"Extremely. Mrs. Walker was there, and she had very kindly forgiven me for my defection of the afternoon. In fact, she was distinctly cordial. She talked to me a great deal of you and your mother."
My heart sank. It always does when I find that my women friends have been talking a great deal about me.
"Oh, did she?"
"She is very fond of you, it seems—and very puzzled by you."
"Puzzled because I work for the Herald?"