Dissociating herself from a convulsed silk coverlet, Gloria straightened up. “Sir Montrose Veyze,” she repeated thoughtfully and relishingly. “Why that particular and titled gentleman?”
“I got to the V’s before I found any one that seemed to fill the bill.”
“What special qualification commended him to your favorable consideration, Miss Cole?”
“Well, he’s unmarried.”
“That’s important.”
“And he’s far away. I came across that in an English magazine.”
“How far?”
“Way out in the East somewhere where one of the fifty-seven varieties of left-over wars is still going on.”
“So far, so good. What are you going to do with him when he comes back?”
“If I only knew!” was the miserable rejoinder. “Maybe he won’t come back. Maybe something will happen to him.”