her violet eyes were burning on him, but he hardened his heart to their
pleading.

"It sounds well, but there's no sense in it. I can't stand for this
let-me-be-a-sister-to-you game, and I won't."

He turned away impatiently and glanced at his watch.

"Lloyd," she said gently, "come to the house to-night."

He shook his head. "Got an appointment."

"An appointment?"

"Yes, a banquet."

She looked at him in surprise. "You didn't tell me!"

"No."

She was silent a moment. "Where is the banquet?"

"At the Ansonia. It's a new restaurant on the Champs Elysées, very swell. I
didn't tell you because--well, because I didn't."

"Lloyd," she whispered, "don't go to the banquet."

"Don't go? Why, this is our national holiday. I'm down to tell some
stories. I've _got_ to go. Besides, I wouldn't come to you, anyway. What's
the use? I've said all I can, and you've said 'No.' So it's all off--that's