Gilbert cleared her throat and beamed.

"But you see," she said in a sort of universal exposition, "you're not
an ancient soul--like Richard."

The Ancient Soul breathed a gasp of relief--it was out at last.

Then as if she had been considering it for five minutes, Gloria made a
sudden announcement:

"I'm going to give a party."

"Oh, can I come?" cried Muriel with facetious daring.

"A dinner. Seven people: Muriel and Rachael and I, and you, Dick, and
Anthony, and that man named Noble--I liked him--and Bloeckman."

Muriel and Rachael went into soft and purring ecstasies of enthusiasm.
Mrs. Gilbert blinked and beamed. With an air of casualness Dick broke in
with a question:

"Who is this fellow Bloeckman, Gloria?"

Scenting a faint hostility, Gloria turned to him.

"Joseph Bloeckman? He's the moving picture man. Vice-president of 'Films
Par Excellence.' He and father do a lot of business."

"Oh!"