“Yes, we are dining out.”
“I'm sorry I didn't wire you because we might have dined together. I saw Plank this afternoon. He did not say you were to dine with him. Shall I see you later in the evening, Sylvia?”
“I—it will be too late—”
“Oh! To-morrow then. What train do you take?”
Sylvia did not answer; he picked up his hat, repeating the question carelessly, and still she made no reply.
“Shall I see you to-morrow?” he asked, swinging on her rather suddenly.
“I think—not. I—there will be no time—”
He bowed quietly to Leila, offering his hand. “Who did you say was to dine with you—besides Plank?”
Leila stood silent, then, withdrawing her fingers, walked to the window.
Quarrier, his hat in his gloved hands, looked from one to the other, his inquiring eyes returning and focused on Sylvia.