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"What's he hanging around here for?" he demanded when Rodney, having
bent over Marion's hand and kissed it, had gone away. "If he could
see that bare spot on the top of his head he'd stop all that
kow-towing."
"You're being rather vulgar, aren't you?" Marion had said. "He's a
very old friend and a very dear one."
"Probably in love with you once, like all the rest?"
He had expected denial from her, but she had held her cigaret up in
the air, and reflectively regarded its small gilt tip.
"I'm afraid he's rather unhappy. Poor Rod!"
"About me?"
"About me."
"Look here, Toots," he burst out. "I'm playing square with you.
I never go anywhere but here. I - I'm perfectly straight with you.
But every time here I find some of your old guard hanging round.
It makes me wild."
"They've always come here, and as long as our engagement isn't known,
I can't very well stop them."
"Then let me go to father."
"He'll turn you out, you know. I know men, dear old thing, and
father is going to raise a merry little hell about us.


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