She laughed, and gave her hand to Van Ingen. "Good-night, Cord," she said with frank affection.
"You won't forget you're lunching with me tomorrow, Doris?" he begged.
"No, indeed!" she returned mischievously. "I want to see my father. And, Cord, do look him up in the morning and 'phone me how he is--will you? I wish you could get him off for a walk."
"I will." He flushed with pleasure at the request. "I'll take him out to the zoo."
He closed the door and turned to rid himself of his companion.
The count stood with bared head, staring after the coupe. The corners of his lips curved in a slight smile, and his eyes were bright, as of one who dreams of pleasant things.
The count laid a persuasive hand upon the young man's arm.
"Not yet," he begged. "You will perhaps stroll with me for a little?"
"I must insist!" Count Poltavo linked an arm through his companion's, who perforce fell into step with him. "It is--how you say--a small matter of business!" He laughed softly.
Van Ingen stalked along in absolute silence. The man's marked, almost insolent preference of Doris, as well as his amazing power over her, filled him with speechless rage. Given a pinchbeck title, he reflected viciously, and a glib tongue, and a girl straightway loses her head. "What is your business?" he asked aloud.
Poltavo threw back his head and laughed musically. "Ah, you Americans!" he murmured. "You cut, like a sharp knife, straight to the heart of a matter. One stroke! 'What _is_ your business?'" He mimicked the young man's curt speech with delicate precision.
"Your countrywoman, Miss Grayson, she also is direct--and adorable." He appeared to muse. "She is natural, with the naïveté of a child. She is beautiful. She has charm. The perfect trinity! Have you observe' her chin--so round, so firm--and her throat----"
Van Ingen disengaged himself roughly. "We will not discuss Miss Grayson," he said a little hoarsely. "We will, if you please, keep strictly to business."
The count regarded him with an air of aggrieved reproach.
"You use words like bricks, my friend," he said gently. "You assault the intelligence. Ver' good. I retort in kind." His accent became slightly more pronounced. "You say: keep strictly to business. I say: mademoiselle is the subject of my business. She have told me that she and you are childhood mates--that you live in--how you say--the same _bloc_ with her in New York--and that she have for you great regard, great affection--like a sister, perhaps. And it was this great regard which leads me to speak to you--to confide my hopes. It is my great wish to make Miss Grayson my wife," he concluded simply.