Crane looked at him suspiciously and then kept on.
"Miss Maitland is going out this spring. She says I'm quite right in thinking there is a delightful society attainable here in Washington, but she's so pleased to be back in her own country that she praises everything right and left. She doesn't even mind the Dupont statue, and won't discuss the Pension building. To see her flow of spirits you would think her the happiest woman in the world. Yet she told me once that she wasn't really happy."
"All women tell you that before you get through with them," growled Thorndyke.
"Annette never has," said Crane, rising and throwing away his cigar. "Some time, if you wish to call on Miss Maitland, I'll take you round."
Thorndyke restrained the temptation to brain Crane with the carafe on the table by him, partly out of regard for himself, partly out of regard to Crane, and partly from the fact that Crane was a much bigger man than he was. But his colleague was evidently quite unconscious of Thorndyke's bloody inclinations, and thought himself the best fellow in the world to be willing to give Thorndyke
