I fled. No, Richard; give up all thought of Ida. Why, even now I live in daily terror lest some man I know may marry her and ask me to be best man. Now I must be going. I'm due at the Bolsovers' at four o'clock, and it's already half-past five."
Both men rose and walked towards the door.
"By the way, is it absolutely necessary that you should stay at the Ritz-Carlton?"
"Absolutely," with decision.
"Ah, well! you're an interesting sort of ass, Richard, I will say that for you. I'll see that you meet Lola. Sometimes these heiresses like a fool without a title just as much as one with, and it would please the Aunt to keep her in the family. Good-bye."
Drewitt hailed a taxi and drove off, Beresford turning westward. He had refused his cousin's invitation to lunch on the morrow, determined to be free of all engagements. He turned gloomily into the Park, crossed the road and sat down upon a vacant chair. In a novel the Rain-Girl would drive by in a car or carriage, bow to him half shyly and with a blush. He would start up and she would order the chauffeur or coachman to stop. He would be introduced to the aunt, invited to lunch and
"Oh, damn!"
Beresford stabbed viciously at the gravel with his stick, and glared savagely at an inoffensive little man with grey mutton-chop whiskers, who looked amazed that any one could be profane on so perfect a day.
