“Ah, behave, behave!” said Kedzie, then blushed at the plebeian phrase. She was beginning to have a quickly remorseful ear. As soon as she should learn to hear her first thoughts first, and suppress them unspoken, she would be a made lady.
“Oh, you're a true artist, Anita,” said Ferriday. “Nothing can hinder your flight into the empyrean.”
“Don't sing it. Explain it,” Kedzie sneered.
Ferriday laughed so delightedly that he must embrace her. She shoved him back and brushed the imaginary dust of his contact from the shoulders that had but lately been compressed by a million dollars.
“I see you landed him,” said Ferriday.
“And I see that all your talk about loving me so much was just a fake,” said Kedzie.
“Why do you say that? I adore you.”
“If you did, would you throw me at the head of another fellow?” asked Kedzie.
“If it was for the advancement of your career, yes,” Ferriday insisted.
“What's Mr. Dyckman got to do with my career?”