"Say you can't see him. Send him a wire."

"I must. He's coming on business. I don't want to see him."

"Can't I see him for you, if you feel like that?"

"No, dear. He must see me."

"When is he due?"

"At seven-thirty."

"Oh—only in the evening. How long do you think he'll stay?"

Kitty hardened her face. "Not a minute longer than I can help."

"An hour? Two hours?"

"I shall have to give him dinner. He's—he's that sort of man."