"
Billy Howland's face was radiant. "I had a date tonight and
the lady threw me down. One of those drummer's wives that take
in washing to add to the family income while hubby's flirting
round the country. This hubby came home unexpectedly. I'm
glad he did."
He beamed with such whole-souled good-nature that Susan
laughed. "Thanks. Same to you," said she.
"Hope you're going to do a lot of that laughing," said he.
"It's the best I've heard--such a quiet, gay sound. I sure do
have the best luck. Until five years ago there was nothing
doing for Billy--hall bedroom--Wheeling stogies--one shirt and
two pairs of cuffs a week--not enough to buy a lady an
ice-cream soda. All at once--bang! The hoodoo busted, and
everything that arrived was for William C. Howland. Better
get aboard."
"Here I am."
"Hold on tight. I pay no attention to the speed laws, and
round the corners on two wheels. Do you like good things to eat?"
"I haven't eaten for six months."
"You must have been out home. Ah!--There's the man to tell us
dinner's ready."
They finished the second cocktail. Susan was pleased to note
that Brent was again looking at her; and she thought--though
she suspected it might be the cocktail--that there was a
question in his look--a question about her which he had been
unable to answer to his satisfaction. When she and Howland
were at one of the small tables against the wall in the
restaurant, she said to him:
"You know Mr.
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