Part 11 (2/2)
”Here's to your career!” she cried. ”Bottoms up!”
They clinked gla.s.ses and drank.
”You must meet people--influential people,” she told him. ”We must see what we can do; I'll have some of them in.”
”You're simply fine to take all this trouble for me!”
She tapped him again on the arm.
”Silly! We take care of our own people, of _course!_ Let's plan it.
Have you any connections in town at all?”
”Well, I've met quite a few people about town, and I have some letters.”
”Casual acquaintances are well enough, but your letters?”
”I have one to Calhoun Bennett, and to Mr. Dempster, and Mr. Farwell, and Truett--”
But she was making a wry face.
”What's the matter with, them?” he demanded.
”Cal Bennett's all right--but the others--oh, I suppose they're all right in a business way--but--”
”But, what?”
She made a helpless little gesture.
”I can't describe it--you know--the sort that are always so keen on doing their _duty!_”
She laughed; and to his subconscious surprise Keith found himself saying sympathetically:
”I know the sort of people who always pay their debts!”
They looked into each other's eyes and laughed in comrades.h.i.+p. In sober life Keith did his duty reasonably well, and was never far behind financially.
She fell silent for a moment; then with a muttered ”excuse me,” she leaned directly across his shoulder to impart something low-voiced and giggly to the woman on his right. To do this she leaned her breast against his arm and shoulder. The conversation lasted some seconds.
Keith could not hear a word of it; but he was disturbingly aware of her perfume, the softness of her body, and the warmth that struck even through the intervening clothing. She drew back with a half apology.
”Feminine nonsense,” she told him. ”Mere man couldn't be expected to understand.” She was herself a little flushed from leaning over, but she appeared not to notice Keith's rather breathless state. He muttered something, and gulped at his champagne.
”Do you know Mrs. Sherwood?” he asked, merely to say something,
But to his surprise Mrs. Morrell answered him shortly, her manner changing:
”No, I don't. We draw the line _somewhere_!”
Again she addressed the woman on the right, but this time without leaning across:
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