But I won't say a word till I can deliver the goods.

Give your wife all the rope you can." Price and Helene met briefly and amiably and she did not again broach the subject of the loan for her friend, nor did she ask for her jewels.

It was apparent that she was proudly determined to conceal whatever terrors or even worries that might haunt her, but the effort deprived her of all her native vivacity; she was almost formal in manner and her white face grew more like a classic mask daily.
On the evening before the Thornton fete, however, Price was able to dine at home.

They met at table and he saw at once that she either had recovered her spirits or was making a deliberate attempt to create the impression of a carefree young woman happy in a tete-a-tete dinner with a busy husband.
Her talk for the most part was of the great entertainment at San Mateo.
The weather promised to be simply magnificent.

Wasn't that exactly like Flora Thornton's luck?
The immense grounds were simply swarming with workmen; wagon-loads of all sorts of things went through the gates after every train--simply one procession after another; but no one else could so much as get her nose through those gates.
Helene, with all her old childish glee, related how she and Aileen, Polly (who apparently had forgotten her impending doom), and two or three other girls, had called up Mrs.Thornton on the telephone every ten minutes for an hour--pretending it was long distance to make sure of a personal response--and begged to be allowed to go over and see the preparations, until finally, in a towering rage, her ladyship had replied that if they called her again she would withdraw her invitations.
"How we did long for an airship.