"You do not ask me where I have been these many days," he said, as he sipped the steaming mocha she offered him in the daintiest of China cups. She never offered her friends wine.
"I had heard that you were in Washington," she answered, apologetically.
"Right—and what was I doing there? Can you undertake to guess?"
"I am sure it is beyond me." This with her most languid air. "Flirting, perhaps."
A light smile curves his mustached lip. Certainly this little beauty, he thinks, is "good at guessing."
"Have your callers been many to-day?" he asked.
"Quite a number of my friends have called—all, I think. I expect no more this evening," she answers, demurely.
"I am glad of that. I shall have you all to myself, Lulu—willful, indifferent still, since you will not ask my object in Washington, I will e'en tell you anyhow."
"Go on—I am listening."
Putting down the cup he had finished, he seated himself on the sofa by her side, good-humoredly taking no notice of the fact that she moved a little farther away from him.