It was twelve o’clock when Judy and Pauline, her head held high, walked into the house. All the lights were on and the radio was going in Pauline’s parlor room, but, as no one was there, they went on through to the roof garden. Irene looked up from the hammock.
“Oh, there you are!” she exclaimed. “Dale and I have been so worried. We couldn’t imagine where you were.”
Pauline noticed the familiar use of his first name and winced. The young author had been sitting beside Irene, and now he rose and stood smiling. Again Pauline felt as if she wanted to run away, but this time it was impossible.
Judy excused their lateness as well as she could without telling them she expected that they would be dancing. Irene soon explained that.
“You missed the most wonderful time,” she said. “Dale was going to take us to a hotel roof garden to dance, but when you didn’t come in we had to wait.”
“You could have left a note,” Pauline replied. “I’m sorry to have spoiled your date.”
“It isn’t spoiled,” Dale returned. “With your consent, we are going tomorrow night.”
“Why with my consent? Irene is old enough to take care of herself.”
“But can’t you see?” he protested. “I want all three of you to come.”
“You can leave me out.”