"Good luck, Jerry. Morituri Salutamus."
"Don't be a bally ass, Bobs. I've got to have a tea for the dear ladies next week. Will you and Jinny take charge?"
"Yes, if I can get down the hall to your door. I'm all in bits to-day."
"We'll manage it. Friday is the day."
"Going to have Jane?"
"Of course. How could any one have a party without Jane?"
"Doesn't it complicate it somewhat that she appeared in the pageant as one of them, as it were? Wouldn't it make the dear souls mad to find her acting as waitress at your party? They'd treat her like a dog."
"I hadn't thought of that. Would she understand, though, if I left her out?"
"She'll understand. I'll keep her here for the day, on some pretext."
So it appeared that, whether she would or not, there had come a change over her standing in the artist group. When Friday came, and Jerry's party was in progress, she sat darning in Bobs's room, thinking it over. She was not indignant at the situation; rather, it amused her. A knock came at the door. When she opened it, Martin Christiansen stood there.