There was a flash over his face, which vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He drew nearer to her as if about to speak, then apparently reconsidered the intention. "I really must not keep you longer," he picked up his hat. "Of course, there are a number of matters to be discussed, but they can wait. We will reserve them for Wednesday evening. Good-by." He held out his hand. She placed hers in it.
"Good-by," she returned.
CHAPTER XX
THE MAGIC WORD
"Maud," said Dita, walking in upon that young woman, a package of letters in her hand, "a lot of things are happening. Here is a letter, among other things, from Mrs. Wilstead. She says that she is just back from California, and that she needs stacks and stacks of new clothes, and wants our designs. It will be fun dressing her. She is so extremely good looking."
Maud stirred restlessly, frowned, bit her lip, but did not speak.
"Just back from California," went on Dita. "I wonder—I wonder, Maud, if she could possibly have come on with Cresswell?"
"Very probably," said Maud. "In fact, I think nothing could be more likely."
"Why, what do you mean by speaking so mysteriously?" Dita widened her eyes. "Suppose they had? Nothing, after all, could be more natural."