Medcroft retained his clasp on his friend's elbow as they went up in the lift, after the fashion of one who fears that his victim is contemplating flight.

As they entered the comfortable little sitting-room of the suite, a young woman rose gracefully from the desk at which she had been writing.

With perfect composure she smiled and extended her slim hand to the American as he crossed the room with Medcroft's jerky introduction dinging in his ears.
"My old friend Brock, dear.

He has consented to be your husband.

You've never met your wife, have you, old man ?" A blush spread over her exquisite face.
"Oh, Roxbury, how embarrassing! He hasn't even proposed to me.