To relieve his feelin's he lights a cigarette and gives me the shoulder once more. I felt like I'd been slapped on the wrist and sent to stand in the corner.
"Maybe you'd like my apology in writin'?" says I. "Just point out a real dusty spot on the floor, and I'll grovel in it. But remember, Son, all we laid out to do, in our humble way, was to give you a boost. So don't be too hard on us."
He smiles patronizin' at that. "No offense intended, I'm suah," says he. "I merely wished to make clear my own position in this ridiculous affair. Of course, if Mother insists, I presume I must—— Bah Jove! Here they are, though!"
And out through the door comes J. Bayard and the lawyer, escortin' a stunnin'-built lady with her face half hid by veils. I'd been introduced too, and was just handin' her a chair, when we got a good square look at each other. So it was simultaneous. She gives a little gasp and stiffens, and I expect I did some open-face work myself. I glances from her to J. Bayard and stares foolish.
"Did you say Mrs. Hammond?" says I.
"Of course, McCabe," says he sort of peevish. "You know I explained beforehand."
"Yes," says I; "but—but——"
Then the lady steps to the front herself, her chin up and her lips pressed tight. "Professor McCabe and I have met before," says she, "under—well, under different circumstances. That is all. And now, Mr. Steele, you spoke of securing an invitation for my son and myself to an important social affair. At just whose house, please?"
"Why," says J. Bayard, "at Mr. Twombley-Crane's."
She don't wince. Near as I could tell she don't make a move, and a second later she's turned to me with a sketchy sort of a smile. "I think I may trust you to explain to Mr. Steele later on," says she, "how impossible it would be for me to accept such an invitation."