Despite the gay gladness of his voice, it irritated her.
Really, she scarcely wanted to see him.

But a meeting was inevitable, and besides, going out with him was in accordance with the plan she had adopted.

So she made an engagement to meet him at the Plaza for dinner.
When with slow and pondering action she hung up the receiver it occurred to her that she resented the idea of going to the Plaza.

She did not dwell on the reason why.
When Carley went into the reception room of the Plaza that night Morrison was waiting for her--the same slim, fastidious, elegant, sallow-faced Morrison whose image she had in mind, yet somehow different.

He had what Carley called the New York masculine face, blase and lined, with eyes that gleamed, yet had no fire.