While Gunther and Lorraine were laughing over this plan, a creation of Bo Lynch's, Beecher was listening to Nan Charters, with a difficult attempt at calming the sudden emotion which her appearance with Lorraine had fired within him.
"What a dreadful time you chose to call!" she said directly. "Don't you know that it takes a modern woman hours to mix her war-paint?"
She looked at him with a little tantalizing malice in her eyes.
"Coquette," he thought furiously. "She is delighted because I was ass enough to call and give her the opportunity to refuse to see me."
"Oh, not a call," he said aloud, committing the stupidity of lying. "I was just rushing downtown, and stopped to inquire how you were after last night."
This answer brought a natural pause. Each looked at the other, he with defiance, she with laughter in her eyes.
"You're staying late," he said at last, because her listening attitude forced him to say something.
"Yes, indeed."
"It'll be more amusing when it thins out," he said in a purposely languid tone.
"When the sight-seers have left—yes," she said, smiling.