see Warrie mahself."

"Warrie!" says I. "Oh, gosh! Why, you mean young Mr. Mason--Warren,
don't you?"

She nods.

"Well, say, that's too bad," says I. "My fault, though. But I never
thought of Warrie as the one. Why, he hasn't been with the Corrugated
for over a year now."

I might have added that we'd had hard work missin' him at any time.
Not that he wasn't all right in his way, but--well, it was just a case
of bein' more ornamental than useful. A bit thick in the head, Warrie.
But it was a stunnin' head--reg'lar Apollonaris Belvidere. He had wavy
brown hair, and big, peaceful brown eyes. Stood a little over six feet
too, and they say that when it came to ridin' a spotted pony and
swingin' a polo mallet he was all there. But in the bond department he
was just under foot.

So, when he develops rheumatism in one shoulder and a specialist orders
him South, it wasn't any serious jolt to the business world. And when
he finally shows up again it didn't take much urgin' from Mr. Robert to
induce him to pass up his financial career for good. He was engaged to
be married anyway, and that should have been enough to occupy his mind.

Where he'd run across Valentina was the big puzzle, and the easiest way
to solve it was to ask her. Which I does.

"Why, at Sand Spur Point," says she.