"It's like the old child's game—'open your mouth and close your eyes and see what God will send you?'—usually something not at all resembling the awaited bonbon.... Good-bye, my altruistic friend—and thank you for your XXth Century advice, and your Louis XVI assistance."
"Good-bye," he returned smilingly, and sauntered back toward his room where his own untried finery awaited him.
Ahead, far down the corridor, he caught sight of Geraldine, and called to her, but perhaps she did not hear him for he had to put on considerable speed to overtake her.
"In these last few days," he said laughingly, "I seldom catch a glimpse of you except when you are vanishing into doorways or down corridors."
She said nothing, did not even turn her head or halt; and, keeping pace with her, he chatted on amiably about nothing in particular until she stopped abruptly and looked at him.
"I am in a hurry. What is it you want, Duane?"
"Why—nothing," he said in surprise.
"That is less than you ask of—others." And she turned to continue her way.
"Is there anything wrong, Geraldine?" he asked, detaining her.
"Is there?" she replied, shaking off his hand from her arm.