"My dear John"—she sometimes called him John when she was particularly in earnest, and when she attempted to be especially dignified—"you may leave all the details of this arrangement to me. I merely wished your consent to the plan."
"Oh, well, if you can manage it, Sally, you've got my consent, all right. What do you want me to do about it? You didn't have to consult me, you know."
"I want you, first, to listen to the list I have made out, and, after that, to carry out my directions in regard to it."
"Good girl; I can do that, too."
"Patricia and Beatrice, Roderick Duncan and the Houston girls, Richard Morton, Nesbit Farnham; and, to supply the other two men who will be necessary to make up the party, you yourself may make the selection. I only wish them to be the right sort."
"What's the scheme, Sally?"
"I want to get these warring elements together, under one roof."
"Whew! You've got more pluck than I thought you had, Sally."
"Listen, Jack: When you go out this evening, find Roderick, and send him here, to me. I have written him not to come here, but that won't make any difference. He'll come if you give him my message. Afterward, you may look up Dick Morton, and the other two men you are to ask, and give them the invitation."
"For when?"