"You know I can't postpone it," John faltered. "The dinner at Philadelphia was arranged especially for me. I'll have to go."
Rodrigo shrugged. "Well, I dare say I can patch it up with Sophie. We'll make it some other time. I'll give her a ring later and call it off for to-night."
"Rodrigo, I hope I haven't caused you any inconvenience. I'll be glad to go out with your friends any other time you say," John pleaded.
"Oh, don't worry, old boy. I'll fix it up. You just go right ahead down to Philadelphia, and bring home that contract. Business before pleasure, you know."
But, around six o'clock, Rodrigo wondered if that were such an excellent motto after all. He had been too busy all day to call Sophie. Dorning and Son closed at five o'clock, and he was all alone there now in the deserted quasi-mausoleum. Mary Drake, who was usually a late worker, had left in the middle of the afternoon, because her mother was not feeling well. Now that the party with Sophie was definitely off and he had nothing but a long lonesome evening to look forward to, Rodrigo had a feeling of disappointment. He had been working hard and faithfully for three months, and he had been looking forward to this evening of pleasure. He deserved it, by Jove.
On an impulse, he located Bill Terhune's telephone number and picked up the instrument. Waiting while the bell buzzed, he told himself that Terhune had probably long since left his office. He half guiltily hoped the former Oxonian had. But Terhune's familiar voice smote his ear with a bull-like "Hullo!"
This was followed by a roar of joyous surprise as Rodrigo identified himself. Agitated questions and replies. Rodrigo broached the proposition of appointing his delighted listener a substitute for John Dorning on the Sophie Binner junket.
"Fine! Great!" fairly shouted Terhune. "I'll call my wife up and tell her I've dropped dead or something."
"Bill—you're married?" questioned Rodrigo.
"Sure. All architects have to get married. It gives them the necessary standing of respectability that gets the business. I even live in Jersey. Think of that, eh? Don't worry about my wife. I can fix it up. She's used to having me stay in town over-night, and has gotten tired of asking questions. I'll bring the liquor, too. What's that? Oh, sure—we need liquor. This Binner baby's a regular blotter, if I remember her rightly. I've got a stock right here in the office. Good stuff too. I'll meet you in the lobby of the Envoy. I'll take a room there for the night. What's that? Oh, no—couldn't think of staying at your place. You know me, Rod—what would your cultured neighbors say, eh? Don't forget now—lobby of the Envoy at six-thirty. I'll dash right around there now and book a room."