Just missed meeting a very pretty girl.”
“No, I didn’t. Not if you mean Evelyn Madden. Saw her downstairs as I came in — she was talking to one of those exiled grand dukes we employ to wait on the customers. I didn’t linger — she’s an old story now. Been seeing her everywhere I went for the past week.”
“I thought her very charming,” Madame Jordan said.
“But an iceberg,” objected the boy. “B-r-r — how the wintry winds do blow in her vicinity. However, I guess she comes by it honestly. I passed the great P.J. himself on the stairs.”
“Nonsense. Have you ever tried that smile of yours on her?”
“In a way. Nothing special — just the old trade smile. But look here — I’m on to you. You want to interest me in the obsolete institution of marriage.”
“It’s what you need. It’s what all young men need.”
“What for?”
“As an incentive. Something to spur you on to get the most out of life.”
Bob Eden laughed. “Listen, my dear. When the fog begins to drift in through the Gate, and the lights begin to twinkle on O’Farrell Street — well, I don’t want to be hampered by no incentive, lady. Besides, the girls aren’t what they were when you were breaking hearts.”
“Rot,” she answered. “They’re very much nicer. The young men are growing silly. Alec, I’ll go along.”
“I’ll get in touch with you next Thursday,” the elder Eden said. “By the way — I’m sorry it wasn’t more, for your sake.”
“It was an amazing lot,” she replied. “I’m very happy.” Her eyes filled. “Dear dad — he’s taking care of me still,” she added, and went quickly out.
Eden turned to his son. “I judge you haven’t taken a newspaper job yet?”
“Not yet.” The boy lighted a cigarette. “Of course, the editors are all after me. But I’ve been fighting them off.”
“Well, fight them off a little longer. I want you to be free for the next two or three weeks. I’ve a little job for you myself.”
“Why of course, dad.” He tossed a match into a priceless Kang-Hsi vase. “What sort of job? What do I do?”
“First of all, you meet the President Pierce late next Thursday afternoon.”
“Sounds promising.
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