He turned and fell into step with Sam.
“It's one I made last night with Anita Flagg. She thinks you didn't know who she was yesterday, and I said that was ridiculous. Of course you knew. I bet her a theatre party.”
To Sam it seemed hardly fair that so soon, before his fresh wound had even been dressed, it should be torn open by impertinent fingers; but he had no right to take offense. How could the man, or any one else, know what Sister Anne had meant to him?
“I'm afraid you lose,” he said. He halted to give Holworthy the hint to leave him, but Holworthy had no such intention.
“You don't say so!” exclaimed that young man. “Fancy one of you chaps being taken in like that. I thought you were taking her in—getting up a story for the Sunday supplement.”
Sam shook his head, nodded, and again moved on; but he was not yet to escape. “And, instead of your fooling her,” exclaimed Holworthy incredulously, “she was having fun, with you!”
With difficulty Sam smiled.
“So it would seem,” he said.
“She certainly made an awfully funny story of it!” exclaimed Holworthy admiringly. “I thought she was making it up—she must have made some of it up. She said you asked her to take a day off in New York. That isn't so is it?”
“Yes, that's so.”