“No, I told Polly Angell that I thought you couldn’t come to dinner and she asked me to come anyway. She found an extra man.”
“Ames?”
Fliss nodded.
“You ought to leave him alone. What do you get out of it?”
But she parried his question with a laugh. “Well, you told me that you wouldn’t make love to me. I have to have some one.”
“Run along—and behave yourself.”
She left his room and going down to the library, picked up the Washington evening papers, turning to the page which gave the social news. Over that she bent a puckered brow, studying names.