departure. She was regarding him now with the old curious look that had puzzled him.
"You're just as perfectly nice as I knew you were," she announced, with an obvious pride in this bit of proved wisdom.
"Good-night!"
From a distance of five feet she bestowed the little double-nod upon him and fled.
"Good-night!" he managed to call after her. Then he was aware that he had wanted to call her "Chubbins!" He liked that name for her. If he could only have said "Good-night, Chubbins" For that matter he basely wanted again to—but he thought with shame that he had done enough for once. A pretty night's work, indeed! If Breede ever found it out
When he left with Breede in the morning, she was on the tennis-court. Brazenly she engaged in light conversation across the net with no other than Thomas Hollins, Junior. She did not look up as the car passed the court, though he knew that she knew. Something in the poise of her head told him that.
He didn't wonder she couldn't face him in the light of day. He smiled bitterly, in scorn for the betrayed Tommy.
