“Well, why didn’t you?” she retorted.
“I’ve half a mind to,” he said, stretching out his arms; but she drew back.
“No. Not now. It’s cold. Hugs must be spontaneous.”
“Where’s Ethel?” Mrs. Harrington called to her.
“Upstairs, changing. You see we didn’t think you could get in so early and you weren’t expected for another half-hour. She ought to be down in a minute or so.”
“Why didn’t you come down and meet us, old man?” Monty asked of his host.
“Wife’s orders,” Harrington responded promptly.
“It’s such a nuisance to have people meet one at the pier,” Alice explained. “I’m sure Monty was glad you weren’t there to witness his humiliation. He was held up for smuggling and narrowly escaped deportation.”
“Oh, Monty,” Nora cried, “how lovely! Was it something for me? Don’t scowl when I ask a perfectly reasonable question.”
“It wasn’t,” Monty said wretchedly. He had in his joy at meeting her forgotten all about smuggling and now the whole thing loomed up again. “I’ve got half Long Island in my eyes, and if you don’t mind, Alice, I’ll go and wash up.”