“Ruth, kindly answer me one question. Aunt Lora informs me that you are going to marry this man Winfield. Is it or is it not true?”
“Of course it’s true.”
Bailey drew in his breath. He gazed coldly at Ruth, bowed to Mrs. Porter, and smoothed the nap of his hat.
“Very good,” he said stonily. “I shall now call upon this Mr. Winfield and thrash him.” With that he walked out of the room.
He directed his cab to the nearest hotel, looked up Kirk’s address in the telephone-book, and ten minutes later was ringing the studio bell.
A look of relief came into George Pennicut’s eyes as he opened the door. To George, nowadays, every ring at the bell meant a possible visit from Lora Delane Porter.
“Is Mr. Kirk Winfield at home?” inquired Bailey.
“Yes, sir. Who shall I say, sir?”
“Kindly tell Mr. Winfield that Mr. Bannister wishes to speak to him.”
“Yes, sir. Will you step this way, sir?”