I knew what that meant, and a cold shiver went up and down my backbone. But I looked down at him—spick-and-span and glossy—his neckties are never crooked—and said, yes, he might come at three o'clock.
Alicia had noticed our aside—when did anything ever escape her?—and when he was gone she asked, significantly, what secret he had been telling me.
"He wants to see me alone tomorrow afternoon. I suppose you know what that means, Alicia?"
"Ah," purred Alicia, "I congratulate you, my dear."
"Aren't your congratulations a little premature?" I asked coldly. "I haven't accepted him yet."
"But you will?"
"Oh, certainly. Isn't it what we've schemed and angled for? I'm very well satisfied."
And so I am. But I wish it hadn't come so soon after Jack's visit, because I feel rather upset yet. Of course I like Gus Sinclair very much, and I am sure I shall be very fond of him.
Well, I must go to bed now and get my beauty sleep. I don't want to be haggard and hollow-eyed at that important interview tomorrow—an interview that will decide my destiny.