“It happened that she had asked somebody to dine with her that evening. And I have a horrid suspicion it was Jim. If it was, she could have postponed it. Of course it was a valid excuse, but it annoyed me to have her decline. That’s what I tell you, James, she has a most disturbing habit of declining overtures from everybody––even from–––”
Helen checked herself, looked at her husband with an odd smile, in which there was no mirth; then:
“You probably are not aware of it, dear, but that girl has also declined Jim’s overtures.”
“Jim’s what?”
“Invitation.”
“Invitation to do what?”
“Marry him.”
Shotwell Senior turned very red.
“The devil she did! How do you know?”
“Jim told me.”