Why, there's Alix Crown now. She's comin' in here."
A big touring car drew up to the sidewalk in front of the Tavern.
Miss Crown sprang lightly out of the seat beside the chauffeur and
came up the steps.
"How do you do, Mrs. Pollock? Hello, Flora. Good evening, Mr.
Editor," was her cheery greeting as she passed by and entered the
house.
"She comes around every once in a while and takes the Dowd girls
out riding in her car," explained Mrs. Pollock.
"Mighty nice of her," said Mr. Pollock, taking his feet down from
the porch-rail and carefully brushing the cigar ashes off of his
coat sleeve. "Takes old Alaska Spigg out too, and the Nicholses,
and--"
"We've been out with her a great many times," broke in Mrs. Pollock.
"I think a Packard is a wonderful car, don't you, Mr. Thane? So
smooth and--"
"I think I'll take a little stroll," said Courtney abruptly; and
snatching up his hat from the floor beside his chair he hurried
down the steps.
She had not even glanced at him as she crossed the porch. He had
the very uneasy conviction that so far as she was concerned he
might just as well not have been there at all. In the early dusk,
her face was clearly revealed to him. There was nothing cold
or unfriendly about it now. Instead, her smile was radiant; her
eyes,--even in the subdued light,--glowed with pleasure. Her voice
was clear and soft and singularly appealing.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93