"Yes, but—as Emelene says, Mr. Evans, it's an imposition to—"
"Why do you think, Mrs. Smith, Martin Jaffry spends all his evenings up at Remingtons' since they're back from their honeymoon? Why, he was telling me only last night it's for the joy of seeing that new little niece of his lording it over her well-oiled little household, where a few extra dropping in makes not one whit of difference."
At this remark, embedded like a diamond in a rock, a shade of faintest color swam across Mrs. Smith's face and she swung him her profile and twirled at her rings.
"And where Genevieve Remington's husband's interests are involved, ladies, need I go further in emphasizing your welcome into that little home?"
"Heaven knows it would be a change from the boarding-house, Alys. The lunches here are beginning to go right against me! That sago pudding today—and Gallup knowing how I hate starchy desserts!"
"For the sake of the cause, Miss Emelene, too!"
"Gallup would have to hold our rooms at half rate."
"Of course, Mrs. Smith. I'll arrange all that."
"I—I can't go over until evening, with three trunks to pack."
"Just fine, Mrs. Smith. You'll be there just in time to greet George at dinner."