Larry surmised at once
that this was the "hired companion" his grandmother had spoken of. In
other days Larry had had experience with this type and before Miss
Grierson could bar him out or ask a question, Larry was in the room
and the door closed behind him--and he had entered with the easiest,
most natural, most polite manner imaginable.
"You were expecting me?" inquired Larry with his disarming and wholly
engaging smile.
Neither Miss Grierson's mind nor body was geared for rapid action. She
was taken aback, and yet not offended. So being at a loss, she
resorted to the chief item in her stock in trade, her ever dependable
dignity.
"I cannot say that I was. In fact, sir, I do not know who you are."
"Miss Cameron knows--and she is expecting me," Larry returned
pleasantly. His quick eyes had noted that this was a sitting-room: an
ornate, patterned affair which the great hotels seem to order in
hundred lots. "Where is Miss Cameron?"
"In the next room," nodding at the connecting door. "She is engaged.
Telephoning. A long-distance call. I'm quite sure she is not expecting
you," Miss Grierson went on to explain ponderously and elaborately,
but with politeness, for this young man was handsome and pleasant and
well-bred and might prove to be some one of real importance.
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