“Tell them what?” inquired the girl, staring at her mentor in amaze and alarm.
“All about Monty. The whole thing. You know, I claim a partnership in him.”
By a mighty effort Darcy suppressed a gasp. What was Gloria up to, now?
“Go on,” the actress urged. “Tell them.”
“I-I can’t,” stammered Darcy, which was exactly what the feminine Macchiavelli on the divan was maneuvering for.
“Shy?” said she, sweetly. “Very well, then. I’ll tell them. May I?”
Receiving a dubious nod, Gloria proceeded:
“Sir Montrose Veyze has finally got his leave. He’ll be here about the middle of October.” (That “gone” feeling came over Darcy.)
“By the 15th?” asked Helen eagerly. “In time for our wedding?”
“No. That’s the unfortunate part. We hoped we could make it a triple wedding. That’s the little surprise Darcy has been waiting to spring on you.”