"I'm afraid you've had rather a dull week," she admitted. "Why don't you go for a day's golf to-morrow. Take Dorothy—she would love it, I know."
"I'll go if you come."
"Nonsense. You know how tired I got when we went before. I shall be quite all right at home, and I do hate to know you are tied to the house all day."
He looked hurt, and she hastened to add kindly: "It's been very good of you, Chris, and I do thank you."
He laid his hand on her shoulder.
"If you're pleased that's all I care about," he said. . . .
To Marie's surprise. Feathers rang up and accepted her invitation.
She answered the 'phone herself, and the sound of his voice sent her pulses racing, and the hot blood rushing to her cheeks.
"Do I have to get into war paint?" he asked, and she laughed as she said that he could please himself.
"Why haven't you been to see us before?" she questioned.