"Oh, I don't know. Some time this week, if I can get accommodations."
"You go alone?"
"Why—of course!"
"I thought perhaps you might feel that Stephanie ought to see Europe."
"I hadn't—considered——"
He reddened, took a swallow of his orange juice, and, holding the glass, turned his eyes on the wax model.
"How long will you be away?" asked Grismer in his still and singularly agreeable voice.
There was another silence. Then Cleland made a painful effort at careless frankness once more:
"That reminds me, Grismer," he exclaimed. "I can't ever repay you for that fountain, but I can do my damndest with a cheque-book and a fountain pen. I should feel most uncomfortable if I went away leaving that obligation unsettled."
He drew out his cheque-book and fountain pen and smiled resolutely at Grismer, whose dark golden eyes rested on him with an intentness that he could scarcely endure.