"Now, what in the devil has he got in his mind?" thought Beecher angrily. "And what was his idea in coming back? Nice look he gave me. Thought he had such an all-fired important engagement that he had to hurry away!"
He tried the door absent-mindedly, and found it locked. A long moment after he had pressed a second time upon the bell, the door was opened by Rita Kildair herself, who drew back in evident astonishment.
"You?" she said, frowning.
"I was going to telephone," he said, a little embarrassed; "but they told me downstairs to come up."
"Quite right."
"Look here, Rita," he said, with a sudden feeling of intuition. "I know you probably think I'm a prime representative of the pinhead family, but I'm awfully broken up by what happened. Can't I help out some way?"
"'Look here, Rita. Can't I help you out some way?'"
"Is that why you've come?" she said slowly.
"Of course," he said, meeting her scrutiny with a puzzled glance.