As for the cold--I'm as warm as toast.

It won't be long, anyway; she's just gone to get something to eat.

Then I'm going to May Henderson's for luncheon." Bertram sighed impatiently and opened his lips--only to close them with the words unsaid.

There was nothing he could do, and he had already said too much, he thought, with a savage glance at the man ahead who still had enough of his paper left to serve for a pretence at reading.

As Bertram could see, however, the man was not reading a word--he was too acutely conscious of the handsome young woman in the long sealskin coat behind him.