Ida hesitated an instant longer, then, dimly conscious that her answer in a measure was dictated by a profound instinct she made no attempt to define, exclaimed, “It’s a go. I believe it will be all for the best. Shake.” And she gave his hand a hearty grasp. “You are a brick,” he murmured, with a sensation of gratitude he had rarely experienced. “But there is one thing more. Please give her no hint of this, for the present at least. Tell her, and make her believe it, that I have not come here to trouble her, that she need never fear to trust herself alone with me. Tell her that I only want to enjoy her society and make things pleasant for her.” “Right you are. Ora’s not the sort you can rush. But don’t overdo it and make her think you’ve altogether got over it. Sometimes that piques and works out all right and sometimes it don’t. She’s as proud as Lucifer and might get over her fancy for you while she was still mad.” “You do know your sex! I’ll use all the art I’ve ever acquired.” “Respectful devotion without humility, and pained self-control. That’s your lay.” He laughed heartily. “We’ll drift for the present.” “Well, now, drift out. I want to go up and sound her. I’m simply expiring to know what she’s thinking about at the present moment.” XXXIII When Ida reached her room she put her ear to the closed door leading into Ora’s, and heard the scratch of the hotel pen. “May I come in?” she asked softly. There was a rattle of paper, the snap of a trunk lid, and then Ora said in tones as dulcet, “Come in, dear.” Ida entered and found Ora extended on the sofa. “What did you run off like that for?” she asked, as she selected the least uncomfortable of the chairs in the fresh and artistic but hardly luxurious room. “The poor man was as glum as a funeral until he’d had two cups of coffee and several cigarettes.” “I was tired. And I really think he has followed you.” “You don’t think anything of the sort. His heart was in his patent leathers when he met us, and I just tided him over. He gave me a message for you. Shall I deliver it?” “Why not?” asked Ora languidly. “He wants me to impress you with the fact that he’s not come here to make love to you, just to enjoy your exhilarating society----” “Is he over it?” Ora’s eyes flashed upward. “Not exactly, but he has no intention of making any more breaks, and being cut off from the solace of your company now and then--principally now, I guess. He’s got to see you or go off to India and shoot tigers. But he’s really much nicer than I had any idea of, and is anxious to give us a good time. Life is a desert, kid, with all the men we know in the next town. Men were invented to amuse us, so do continue to thaw. You did bravely when you got started, and no harm will be done. If you can’t fall in love with him you can’t, and he’s prepared to take his medicine. He’s a good sport. A man like that can behave himself when he sets his mind to it.”