"
"That must please him," suggested Selwyn gravely.
"It does. Boots says you are not going to business to-day. So I thought
I'd call you up."
"Thank you," said Selwyn.
"You are welcome. What are you doing over there in Boots's house?"
"Looking at the fire, Drina, and listening to the purring of three fat
tabby-cats."
"Oh! Mother and Eileen have gone somewhere. I haven't anything to do
for an hour. Can't you come around?"
"Why, yes, if you want me."
"Yes, I do. Of course I can't have Boots, and I prefer you next. The
children are fox-hunting, and it bores me. Will you come?"
"Yes. When?"
"Now. And would you mind bringing me a box of mint-paste? Mother won't
object. Besides, I'll tell her, anyway, after I've eaten them."
"All right!" said Selwyn, laughing and hanging up the receiver.
On his way to the Gerards' he bought a box of the confection dear to
Drina. But as he dropped the packet into his overcoat-pocket, the memory
of the past rose up suddenly, halting him.
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