She's a fascinating woman,
but I can't help feeling that with her one is always playing with
fire."
Whitney eyed us knowingly. I had long ago taken his measure as a
man quite susceptible to a pretty face, especially if accompanied
by a well-turned ankle.
"I never discuss politics during business hours," he laughed, with
a self-satisfied air. "You will excuse me? I have some rather
important letters that I must get off."
Kennedy rose, and Whitney walked to the door with us, to call his
stenographer.
We had scarcely said good-bye and were about to open the outer
door when it was pushed open from outside, and Lockwood bustled
in.
"No more anonymous letters, I hope?" he queried, in a tone which I
could not determine whether serious or sarcastic.
Kennedy answered in the negative. "Not unless you have one."
"I? I rather think the ready letter-writers know better than to
waste time on me. That little billet doux seems to have quite
upset the Senorita, though. I don't know how many times she has
called me up to see if I was all right. I begin to think that
whoever wrote it has done me a good turn, after all."
Lockwood did not say it in a boastful way, but one could see that
he was greatly pleased at the solicitude of Inez.
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