I lighted my cigar.
“Kate!” he repeated, with a rising inflection. “Now look here, I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“Where’s your family Bible?” I inquired blandly.
“You’ll be saying next that to-night’s arrangement was by ‘special request.’”
“You were across the table,” I retorted. “Draw your own conclusions.”
“I suppose you’ll join her later,” suggested Ferdie, in an irritating manner.
I wouldn’t be bluffed by him, so I replied pointedly, “I may, to save her from worse.”
“Give you odds on it,” offered Ferdie.
“I don’t make bets where women are concerned,” I crushingly responded.
“Sorry the strain has left you so bad-tempered,” said Ferdie, rising. “There’s Caldwell beckoning to me. Ta, ta!”