"Jimmy," stated Blake, his eyes softening, "you're the limit!"
"You're not!" flashed back his friend. "There's no limit to you—to what you can do."
"Heap of good it does—your saying it," grumbled Blake.
"This—er—situation won't prevent your calling at the Leslies', I hope."
"I'm not so sure," considered Blake. "Leastways you won't see me there till I begin to think I see a way to figure out this dam."
Lord James swung a leg over the corner of the desk and proceeded to light a cigarette. Through the haze of the first two puffs he squinted across at the glum face of his friend, and said: "Don't be an ass. She hasn't told you not to call."
"No," admitted Blake. "Just the same, she said she wouldn't give me any help."
"That doesn't bar you from calling. The sight of her will keep you keen."
"I tell you, I'm not going near her house till I think I've a show to make good on this dam."
"Then you'll lunch with me and make an early call at the Gantrys'. Miss
Dolores requested me to give you an urgent invitation."