"James Seabury," he replied so quickly that it was almost pathetic.
She mused, frowning a little: "Where have I heard your name?" she asked with an absent-minded glance at him.
"Oh—er—around, I suppose," he suggested, vaguely.
"But I have heard it. Are you famous?"
"Oh, no," he said quickly. "I'm an architect, or ought to be. Fact is, I'm so confoundedly busy golfing and sailing and fishing and shooting and hunting that I have very little time for business."
"What a confession!" she exclaimed, laughing outright; and the beauty that transfigured her took his breath away. But her laughter was brief, her eyes grew more serious than ever: "So you are not in business?"
"No."
"I am employed," she said calmly, looking at him.
"Are you?" he said, astonished.
"So, you see," she added gaily, "I should have very little time to see anybody——"