"Although," he added, urbanely, "I daresay it might be difficult to convert Mr. Anthony Cardew to such a belief."
While Louis Akers saw Lily to her taxicab that night Doyle stood in the hall, waiting. He was very content with his evening's work.
"Well?" he said, when Akers returned.
"Merry as a marriage bell. I'm to show her the Brunelleschi drawings to-morrow."
Slightly flushed, he smoothed his hair in front of the mirror over the stand.
"She's a nice child," he said. In his eyes was the look of the hunting animal that scents food.