"For the love of Mike," he said impatiently, "what have you two got to talk about all night?"
"My son," observed Duane, "there are a few subjects for conversation which do not include the centipede and the polka-dotted dickey-bird. These subjects Kathleen and I furtively indulge in when we can arrange to elude you."
Scott covered a yawn and glanced at Kathleen.
"Is Geraldine all right?" he asked with all the healthy indifference of a young man who had never been ill, and was, therefore, incapable of understanding illness in others.
"Certainly, she's all right," said Duane. And to Kathleen: "I believe I'll venture to knock at her door——"
"Oh, no, Duane. She isn't ready to see anybody——"
"Well, I'll try——"
"Please, don't!"
But he had her at a disadvantage, and he only laughed and mounted the stairs, saying:
"I'll just exchange a word with her or with her maid, anyway."