“We may get him there yet. Don’t worry! Hello, Faunce; coming my way?”
Faunce shook his head smilingly.
“I’m going to see the judge,” he said.
For a moment Dr. Gerry stood staring at him. The young man winced.
“You won’t find the judge in a good humor,” the doctor warned him. “You’d better come along with me and test my cigars. Di’s got her hands full taking care of her father.”
Faunce turned involuntarily and looked at Diane, who stood in the vestibule, listening, and smiling in an absent way, her eyes on the gloves that she was slowly unfastening. As Faunce turned, however, she looked up, and her face softened and glowed with a new and delicate embarrassment. She had never looked more charming, more desirable in his eyes, than at that moment. Dr. Gerry, following his glance, caught the look on her face, too, and his hand tightened its grip on his little black bag.
“I think I’ll stay for a while and risk the judge’s lumbago,” Faunce said without turning his head.
Gerry went slowly down the steps. At the foot he turned and looked at Faunce again.
“You’re risking a good deal more than that,” he observed dryly; and with this enigmatical remark he plodded steadily down to the gate without once glancing over his shoulder.
Diane laughed.