"You don't mind my going on
about my troubles, do you?" asked Miss Verepoint, solicitously. "One
so seldom meets anybody really sympathetic."
Roland babbled fervent assurances, and she pressed his hand gratefully.
"I wonder if you would care to come to tea one afternoon," she said.
"Oh, rather!" said Roland. He would have liked to put it in a more
polished way but he was almost beyond speech.
"Of course, I know what a busy man you are----"
"No, no!"
"Well, I should be in to-morrow afternoon, if you cared to look in."
Roland bleated gratefully.
"I'll write down the address for you," said Miss Verepoint, suddenly
businesslike.
* * * * *
Exactly when he committed himself to the purchase of the Windsor
Theater, Roland could never say. The idea seemed to come into existence
fully-grown, without preliminary discussion. One moment it was not--the
next it was. His recollections of the afternoon which he spent drinking
lukewarm tea and punctuating Miss Verepoint's flow of speech with
"yes's" and "no's" were always so thoroughly confused that he never
knew even whose suggestion it was.
Pages:
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56