furiously but she had never snubbed him.

He walked over to her, his cool gray eyes lit with the pleasure in seeing
her that she had learned to expect. "Good evening, oh, Queen of the
Pacific," he said lightly. "You are looking quite wonderful as usual. Are
you standing alone almost in the middle of the room to emphasize
the--difference?"

"I am in no mood for compliments, satiric or otherwise." She looked him
over with cool penetration. "I may not massage or have my old cuticle
ripped off. If I choose to look my age you must admit that it gives me
one more claim to originality."

"You should have let the world know long since just how original you are,
instead of settling down into the leadership of San Francisco society--"

He enjoyed provoking her. Her dark narrow eyes opened and flashed as they
must have done in their unchastened youth. "Don't dare call me the leader
of this--this!"

"Granted. But the fact remains that your word alone is law. Therefore I
am about to ask you to forget that I am a bungling diplomat and do a kind
act. For once you would be able to be both kind and original."

"I did not know you went in for charities. I am sick of shelling out."

"My only part in charities is shelling out."

"Well, come to the point. What do you want?"