"Have we anything to make up?" she asked languidly, keeping her eyes on the paper.
"Of course we have. You know very well, Molly, you're angry with me.... Now mother says----"
She caught his bantering tone, and resenting it, drew her fingers away haughtily.
"You learn good manners from your mother, it seems."
Her tone was insolent and angered him. Theodore returned quickly to his chair.
"No, I don't," he denied. "You know I don't! But before you asked me to go with you Saturday, I told you I had an appointment----"
"Yes, and you told me who it was with, too," Molly thrust back in his teeth.
"Exactly, because there's no reason why I shouldn't. I've taken an extreme interest in the little girl.... You offended me by talking against her."
Molly's temper was rising by the minute. She had armored herself with a statement, the truth of which she would force upon him.
"I'm not sure I said anything that wasn't true," she returned discourteously.
"Then you didn't mean it when you said you were sorry?" he demanded shortly.
"I wanted you to go with me, that's all."
"And you took that way to make me. Was that it?"
Molly picked up her pen and made a few marks with it.
"I'm not interested in Miss Grandoken," she replied.
"So I notice," retorted Theodore, provokingly.
She turned around upon him with angry, sparkling eyes.
"I think you've a lot of nerve to bring her into your home."
She hazarded this without thought of consequences.
"What do you mean?" he asked presently, searching her face with an analytical gaze.
Molly was wrought up to the point of invention, perhaps because she was madly jealous.
"Men generally keep that sort of a woman to themselves," she explained. "A home is usually sacred to the ordinary man."
Theodore was stung to silence. It was a bitter fling, and his thoughts worked rapidly. It took a long moment for his tall figure to get up from the chair.
"Just what _do_ you mean?" he demanded, thrusting his hands into his pockets.
"I don't believe I need tell you any more," she answered.
Theodore stood in the middle of the room as if turned to stone.
"I'm dense, I guess," he admitted huskily.
Angered beyond reason or self-control, Molly pushed the letter away impatiently and stood up.
"Well, if you're so terribly dense, then listen. No man is ever interested in a girl like that unless she is something more to him than a mere----" She broke off, because a dark red flush was spreading in hot waves over the man's face. But bravely she proceeded, "Of course you wouldn't insult your family and your friends by marrying her. Then what conclusion do you want them to draw?"