"You're hardly here as an emissary of the family, I suppose."
"No. I—I just came."
"In that case hadn't you better just go again?"
"If you tell me to," said Pat, downcast and humble.
The other hesitated. "I can't conceive what you mean by this visit," she said with severity, into which, however, had crept a mitigating quality. "Was it just vulgar curiosity?"
Pat nodded so vigorously that her hair flicked forward about her face like wind-whipped silk ribbons.
"You're frank, at any rate. I like that." Abruptly she stepped back. "As you're here, come in."
Pat obeyed. "You're awfully good to let me."
"Am I? That remains to be seen." She led the way to an airy, daintily furnished front room, a conspicuous feature of which was a big arm chair with a drawing board across the arms.
"What's that?" asked Pat with lively curiosity.