Jim and Lilas were talking loudly when a key grated in the lock, the door of the little apartment opened and clicked shut again. Another instant and Jarvis Hammon paused on the threshold, glowering.
Lilas's wine-glass shattered upon the floor.
"Jarvis! You frightened me," she cried.
"Evening, Mr. Hammon." Bob lurched to his feet, upsetting his chair.
"This IS a s'prise."
Jim had risen likewise, but Hammon had eyes for no one except Lilas.
"Ah! You're home again, finally. Where have you been?" he demanded, in a voice heavy with anger. His hostile tone, his threatening attitude brought an uncomfortable silence upon the hearers.
"Now, Jarvis," said the bridegroom, placatingly, steadying himself meanwhile with the aid of the table, "don't be a grouch. Everything's all right."
Lilas remained motionless, staring defiantly. Her face had slowly whitened, and now its unpleasantness matched that of her elderly admirer. Hammon dropped his smoldering gaze to the half-empty glasses, then raised it, scowling at Jim.
"Humph! Who is—this?"
Lilas made her guest known. "Mr. Knight, Mr. Hammon. I believe you know
Miss Knight."