Shirley smiled indulgently. Taylor and Warren
exchanged looks, but Monty knew that they must by this time be
aware of his command to the girl to abstain from gay
associations.
"You couldn't resist the call of the wild, could you, Miss
Dolly?"
The girl sheepishly giggled, and danced out of the room, to sink
into a chair, wondering what this visitation meant. Another
masculine butterfly pressed more champagne upon her, and in a few
moments she had forgotten to worry about anything more important
than the laws of gravity. Warren had been rudely dragged away
from his intellectual kinship with his guest. His manner
changed, almost indefinably, but Shirley understood. He looked
at Helene, a little bundle of sleepy sweetness in the big chair.
"Well, Miss! Where did you go when I left you on my call of
condolence to Howard Van Cleft? He leaves town to-night for a
trip on his yacht, and it was my last chance to say good-bye."
"Where is he going?" was Warren's lapsus linguae, at this bit of
news.
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