"Who did you say was to dine with you--besides Plank ?" Leila stood silent, then, withdrawing her fingers, walked to the window.
Quarrier, his hat in his gloved hands, looked from one to the other, his inquiring eyes returning and focused on Sylvia.
"Who are you dining with ?" he asked with authority.
"Mr.Plank and Mr.Siward." "Mr.Siward!" he repeated in surprised displeasure, as though he had not already divined it.
"Yes.

A man I like." "A man I dislike," he rejoined with the slightest emphasis.
"I am sorry," she said simply.
"So am I, Sylvia.

And I am going to ask you to make him an excuse.

Any excuse will do." "Excuse?
What do you mean, Howard ?" "I mean that I do not care to have you seen with Mr.Siward.Have I ever demanded very much of you, Sylvia?
Very well; I demand this of you now." And still she stood there, her eyes wide, her colour gone, repeating: "Excuse?
What excuse?
What do you mean by 'excuse,' Howard ?" "I have told you.

You know my wishes.