sarcastically, but deciding once more not to let the day be spoiled, grimaced at the secretary behind his back and wrinkled her nose in mock disgust at her husband.
But George's opinion and Fay's hopes were alike in vain, for that afternoon upon the golf links, when they were only at the seventh hole, appeared again this tall, round-shouldered Blakeley, doggedly clambering over a hazard and coming down to them, bearing a telegram which he seemed to think demanded immediate attention.
Fay cut the air viciously with a practice swing of her mashie and waited impatiently while George read the message. For some seconds after, he stood silent, then dictated an answer. But for the remainder of the afternoon his manner was absorbed; he seemed no more than half-conscious of the charming woman at his side. Fay was by turns resigned, mirthful, sympathetic, miffed. When the mood persisted, she grew sarcastic.
"I suppose it is my humble duty not to intrude upon great thoughts," she taunted.
"Fay!" exclaimed George, coming out of his trance with a start. "Forgive me! Intrude whenever you want to. You're a full partner, not a silent one."
"You're the silent one," she complained. "You know, George, I can't help being fear-
