"I never talk shop outside of business hours," was the chilling response, as she drew herself slightly away from him and looked straight ahead.
Merry was not far behind, and her appearance prevented Edith's hauteur from becoming too apparent.
"Mr. Huntington and I are going to have another race to-morrow morning," she announced. "I'm sure he let me beat him this time just to humiliate me the more when he shows what he can really do."
"I'd back you against the field if I could find any takers," Cosden insisted. "That shows what I think of his chances."
"It's great fun, anyway. Isn't this a fine old world, Momsie?" she cried impulsively, throwing her arms around her mother's neck and kissing her.
"'Here comes the bride,'" chanted Cosden as Huntington finally walked toward them with his dignified stride. "If I took as much time to prink as you do I believe I could fuss myself up to look like something."
"You'd need a file!" Edith ejaculated spitefully.
"I beg your pardon?" Cosden interrogated, but no explanation was vouchsafed.
"This looks to me like a council of war," Huntington remarked.
"Call it rather a demobilization," Thatcher corrected. "I have made myself everlastingly unpopular by deciding to return to New York on Monday. Marian insists on leaving when I do, and the Stevenses are equally considerate of my pleasure. So I've spoiled everything."