"Will you be at home this evening, Valerie?"
"Y-yes … rather late."
"Too late to see me?"
"No, you dear girl. Come at eleven, anyway. And if I'm a little late you'll forgive me, won't you?"
"No, I won't," said Rita, crossly. "You and I are business women, anyway, and eleven is too late for week days. I'll wait until I can see you, sometime—"
"Was it anything important, dear?"
"Not to me."
Querida rose, took his leave of Valerie and Rita, went over and made his adieux to his host and the others. When he had gone Rita, standing alone with Valerie beside the tea table, said in a low voice:
"Don't do it, Valerie!"
"Do—what?" asked the girl in astonishment.