"
"Exact terms. Six months from date I'll be cooling my heels in your
ante-room."
"Cavenaugh, if it's anything else except a joke. . . ."
"Oh, rot! It was your suggestion. I tell you, it's a lark, nothing
more. A gentleman's word."
"I'll start for my diggings."
"Ride home with me; my cab's here somewhere."
"No, thanks. I've got a little thinking to do and prefer to be alone.
Good night."
"And good luck go with you. Deuce take it, if you feel so badly. . . ."
There was no reply; and Kitty decided that the younger man had gone on.
Silence; or rather, she no longer heard the speakers. Then a low
chuckle came to her and this chuckle broadened into ironic laughter;
and she knew that Mephisto was abroad. What had been the wager; and
what was the meaning of the six months? It is instinctive in woman to
interpret the human voice correctly, especially when the eyes are not
distracted by physical presentations. This man outside, whoever and
whatever he was, deep in her heart Kitty knew that he was not going to
play fair.
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