" "Well, think no more about it," returned Thames. I was afraid that I might be called upon as a witness. She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. "We must keep still. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. May I go on a date tomorrow night with John Diedermayer?\" She did not look at Mike, who she knew would be wounded. S. . Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. ” “You have seen her—since last night?” “Yes.
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