“Because it is the hardest thing in the world for a woman to be single-minded, in the limited sense of concentration, I mean. Focus your wits on Siddle to-day. I don’t suggest any plan. I leave that to your own intelligence. Vex him, and let him talk.”
“Vex him!”
“Yes. What man won’t get mad if he notices that his best girl is thinking about a rival.”
This time Doris did not blush. She was troubled and serious, very serious.
“I’ll do what I can,” she promised. “When shall I see you again?”
“Soon. There’s no hurry. All this is preparatory for Wednesday.”
“Am I to tell my father nothing?”
“Please yourself. Not at present. I recommend you.”
The car had stopped. It sped on when Doris alighted. She would be home with her cakes at three o’clock, and Mr. Martin would never have noticed her absence.
“A fine bit of work, if I may say so,” exclaimed Fowler appreciatively. “But I am jiggered if I can imagine what you’re driving at.”