"
"I'll copy it off for him," said Grant.
Madam Bowker and Craig exchanged amused glances. "You'll give it
to him in Madam Bowker's handwriting," ordered Craig. "You told
Scones to keep his mouth shut, when you paid him?"
The other three looked conscious, and Margaret reddened slightly
at this coarse brusqueness of phrase. "Yes," said Grant. "He'll
refuse to be interviewed. I'll go and attend to this."
"We're having a gala lunch, at once--in the apartment," said the
old lady. "So, come back quickly."
When he was gone she said to the two: "And now what are your
plans?"
"We have none," said Craig.
"I had thought--" began Margaret. She hesitated, colored, went on:
"Grandmother, couldn't you get the Millicans' camp in the
Adirondacks? I heard Mrs. Millican say yesterday they had got it
all ready and had suddenly decided to go abroad instead."
"Certainly," said the old lady. "I'll telephone about it at once,
and I'll ask the Millicans to lunch with us to-day."
She left them alone. Craig, eyeing his bride covertly, had a sense
of her remoteness, her unattainability. He was like a man who, in
an hour of rashness and vanity, has boasted that he can attain a
certain mountain peak, and finds himself stalled at its very base.
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