"Is it possible that you are referring to my friend, Mr.—er—Mr. Stainton?"
"Of course I am, Preston."
"Oh! He's still here?"
"Why, yes. I've only just seen him."
"You made him wait rather long, my dear. I hope you are not keeping him waiting again."
"What else could I do?"
"How do I know?"
"Preston, do try to show a little interest. I say: what on earth do you suppose he wants?"
"If he was as bored by that performance at the Metropolitan as I was," said Newberry, yawning, "he wants a drink. Don't you know what he wants?"
"He wants—he wants," Ethel dramatically brought it out, "to take Muriel for a ride in his motor."