“I'd better slope.”
“Do you mind?”
“Not in the least. I'll go up a flight of stairs and take the elevator after His Majesty has finished with it. Good-by. Get busy!”
He slid out, and Kedzie scurried about her primping. The bell rang. She sent her maid to the door. Dyckman came in. She let him wait awhile—then went to him with an elegiac manner.
She accepted his salute on a martyr-white brow. He said:
“I read about the fire. I was scared to death for you till I learned that all the people were safe. I motored up to see the ruins. Some ruins! Like to see'em?”
“I don't think I could stand the sight of them. They're my ruins, too.”
“How so?”
“Because the company won't rebuild or go on, and most of my pictures were destroyed.”
“Your pretty, beautiful, gorgeous pictures gone! Oh, God help us! That's too terrible to believe.”