"Irish, please. How's your friend's case?"
"Coming along. You don't seem surprised to see me."
"I had your telegram, and besides I heard your car, just now."
"Oh!" There was a significance in the ejaculation which Whitaker chose to ignore as he blandly accepted his frosted glass. "You weren't—ah—lonely?" Ember persisted.
"Not in the least."
"I fancied I saw the flutter of a petticoat through the trees, as I came up to the house."
"You did."
"Found a—ah—friend down here?"
"Acquaintance of yours, I believe: Miss Fiske."
"Miss Fiske!" There was unfeigned amazement in the echo.