"Oh, you're looking for scandal, eh?" breathed Miss Demorest. "Well, you won't get it, body-snatcher!"
Pope bowed gravely. "You overwhelm me with your courtesy," he said. "I do not represent the press to-day. I'm here as a friend. Bob's nearly dead."
"Serves him right. I suppose you've left another reporter to take down his dying words for the evening paper."
"Don't be silly. I want to see—"
"She's not here."
"Then I'd like to talk with you." The door opened slightly, and Pope smiled, whereupon the opening narrowed. "No. You can't come in. I've just cleaned house."
In desperation the man exclaimed: "I won't sit down, but I must talk to you. Really, I must, about—ducks, if nothing else."
"Ducks!" Adoree's expression altered.
"Let's be sensible. I want you to like me." Pope tried to appear amiable, but the effort resulted in a painful smirk.
"Huh!"