At dinner yesterday," she continued, "Wally happened to ask me where I was going that evening, and I told him I was coming over to see you.

And really, dear, I meant it at the time.

Instead, a little crowd of us happened to get together and we went to the club.
"Well, that was all right.

But it was nearly twelve when I got home, and he looked so miserable that I hated to tell him that I had been off enjoying myself, so I pretended I had been over to see you." Mary blinked at the inference, but was too breathless, too alarmed to speak.
"He asked me if I got to your house early," resumed Helen, "and I said, 'Oh, about eight.' And then he said, 'What time did you leave Mary's ?' and I said, 'Oh, about half-past eleven.' "Of course, I thought everything was all right, but I could tell from something he said this morning that he didn't believe me.

So if he calls you up, tell him that I was over at your house last night--will you ?--there's a dear--" "But I can't," said Mary, more breathless, more alarmed than ever.