“It seems so good to come back here,” she began without mercy.
Steve had to lay aside his work and wonder why Miss Lunk ever let this creature into his private domain. He would see that it did not happen twice.
“Ah––I suppose,” he knew he answered.
“You are such a busy man; you don’t know how I admire you.” Trudy tried fresh tactics.
“Um––have you seen the morning papers?”
“Thank you but Gay read them to me at breakfast.... You never come to our little home, do you? Too busy, I presume. Or are you one of those who can forgive everyone but the interior decorator?” This with an arch expression and a slight twinkle of the blue eyes––it could not quite be called a wink.
“I’m afraid so, Mrs. Vondeplosshe. I leave such things to Beatrice.”
“Oh, I understand.” Trudy took her cue quickly. “It is out of your province. You can’t do big, gigantic things if you bother with doll-house notions. Now I really prefer––oh, far prefer––men like yourself, who–––”
Steve started the electric fan whirring.
“Don’t you ever long for camping trips or long horseback rides––something away from the everlasting fuss and feathers? I do. Would you believe it?” she fibbed glibly.