"I can resist anything but temptation," Huntington replied soberly; "I love the enemy."
"This cocktail-drinking is a curious thing," Thatcher remarked. "In cold weather we take it to warm us up, in warm weather to cool us off; when we are depressed it is to cheer us, and when we're happy it's because we want to celebrate. And there you are.—How about the Consolidated Machinery deal?" Thatcher changed the subject abruptly, and spoke to Cosden. "Are we going to fight each other on that?"
"I'm afraid we'll have to," Cosden admitted frankly; "but I'll be glad to talk it over with you. From here, the interests look too far apart even to compromise."
Cosden and Huntington went up in the elevator together, leaving Thatcher on the piazza.
"What the devil did that young cub show up here for just at this time?" Cosden demanded.
"Didn't you hear?" Monty explained innocently. "He wanted to cheer me up in my 'awful loneliness.'"
"Lonely fiddlesticks!" Cosden protested irritably. "Don't you grasp the fact that his coming is going to mess things up?"
"Why, no," Huntington said slowly, pausing at the door of his room to give his friend opportunity to finish his remarks; "I can't for the life of me see that."
"Don't you see that it's Merry Thatcher the kid is making up to?"
"Oh, ho!" Huntington exclaimed. "So that's the situation! It was stupid of me not to understand."