“I wonder where Steve is?” Monty said for the fifth time. “He ought to have that tire fixed by now.”
“I hope he hasn’t smashed up,” said Alice.
“So do I,” Michael retorted. “It was a mighty good car—almost new—and I left a silver pocket-flask in it, I remember.”
“Is someone else coming?” Ethel Cartwright asked.
“A perfectly charming man, a Steven Denby.”
“Steven Denby?” Miss Cartwright cried, her face lighting up. “Really?”
“Do you know him then?” Mrs. Harrington asked.
“What, you know Steve?” Monty asked in surprise.
“Tell us about him,” Nora besought her.