CHAPTER 18

"Oh—you're Casey Taylor."

I now recognized why her face was familiar—its pleasing, contemptuous expression had appeared in numerous rotogravure pictures of the sporting life in Asheville, Hot

Springs, and Palm Beach. I had heard some story about her too, a critical, unpleasant story, but what it was I had forgotten long ago.

"Good night," she said softly. "Wake me at eight, won't you?"

"If you'll get up."

"I will. Good night, Sam Parker. See you soon."

"Of course you will," confirmed Lily. "In fact, I think I'll arrange a marriage. Come over often, Sam, and I'll sort of—oh—fling you together.

You know—lock you up accidentally in linen closets and push you out to sea in a boat, and all that sort of thing——"

"Good night," called Casey from the stairs. "I haven't heard a word."

"She's a nice girl," said Max after a moment. "They shouldn't let her roam around the country like this."

"Who shouldn't?" Lily asked coldly.

"Her family."

"Her family is one aunt about a thousand years old. Besides, Sam's going to look after her, aren't you, Sam? She's going to spend lots of weekends out here this summer.

I think the home influence will be very good for her."