During the rest of the evening he watched Sue, wondering if she too had
fathomed Morrison and what she thought of his having taken the role of
star from the long gaunt man, who had evidently been booked for that part
and who sat at the table and wandered afterward among the guests, annoyed
and disconcerted.
Late that night Sue came into his room and found him reading and smoking
by the fire.
"Cheeky of Morrison, dimming your star," he said, looking at her and
laughing apologetically.
Sue looked at him doubtfully.
"I came in to thank you for bringing him," she said; "I thought him
splendid."
Sam looked at her and for a moment was tempted to let the matter pass. And
then his old inclination to be always open and frank with her asserted
itself and he closed the book and rising stood looking down at her.
"The little beast was guying your crowd," he said, "but I do not want him
to guy you. Not that he wouldn't try. He has the audacity for anything."
A flush arose to her cheeks and her eyes gleamed.
"That is not true, Sam," she said coldly. "You say that because you are
becoming hard and cold and cynical. Your friend Morrison talked from his
heart. It was beautiful.
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