Energy books

"My
father was an American. Awfully jolly books, most of them."
"I looked you up in the passenger list a moment ago," she said
coolly. "Your home is in Vienna. I like Vienna."
He was looking rather intently at the book, now partly lowered.
"Isn't that the passenger list you have concealed in that book?" he
demanded.
"It is," she replied promptly. "You will pardon a natural curiosity?
I wanted to see whether you were from New York."
"May I look at it, please?"
She closed the book. "It isn't necessary. I _am_ from New York."
"By the way, do you happen to know a Miss Blithers,--Maud Blithers?"
Miss Guile frowned reflectively. "Blithers? The name is a familiar
one. Maud Blithers? What is she like?"
"She's supposed to be very good-looking. I've never seen her."
"How queer to be asking me if I know her, then. Why _do_ you ask?"
"I've heard so much about her lately. She is the daughter of William
Blithers, the great capitalist."
"Oh, I know who he is," she exclaimed. "Perfect roodles of money,
hasn't he?"
"Roodles?"
"Loads, if it means more to you.


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