"Molly, I hope you won't mind," he said, "but I've promised O'Farrell to
go with them and meet you in Paris to-morrow night. I've already spoken
to Mr. Beckett and he approves."
"This comes of my being ten minutes late!" I almost--not quite--cried
aloud. I'd hardly closed my eyes all night, but had fallen into a doze
at dawn and overslept myself. Meanwhile the O'Farrell faction had got in
its deadly work!
I was angry and disgusted, yet--as usual where that devil of a Puck was
concerned--I had the impulse to laugh. It was as if he'd put his finger
to his nose and chuckled in impish glee: "You hope to get rid of us, do
you, you minx? Well, I'll _show_ you!" But I should be playing his game
if I lost my temper.
"Why do the O'Farrells want you to go with them?" I "camouflaged" my
rage.
"It's Julian who wants me," explained the dear boy. (Oh, it had come to
Christian names!) "It seems Miss O'Farrell has taken it into her head
that none of us likes her, and that we've arranged this way to get rid
of them both--letting them down easily and making some excuse not to
start again together from Paris. O'Farrell thought if I'd offer to go
with them and sit in the back of the car while he drove I could persuade
her----"
"Well, I don't envy any one the task of persuading that girl to believe
a thing she doesn't wish to believe," I exploded. "My private opinion
is, though, that her brother's sister needs no persuading.
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