Joan Harry was shy and not very comfortable sharing too many personal thoughts or feelings.
At many parties and banquets, she had tried to invite Sylvan Cheney, but he had refused without exception.
All she could do was nod her head, "I'm sorry to bother Mr. Cheney."
As Sylvan Cheney hung up the phone, Butler Santana walked in.
"Mr. Cheney, Mr. Heath is here."
Sylvan's eyes grew sharp—Joe Heath?
Before he could say anything, Joe Heath rushed in, pushing open the door to the living room!
Butler Santana panicked a little, "Mr. Heath..."
Joe glanced at Sylvan, then at Butler Santana, "You may leave."
"Yes," said Butler Santana as he left.
In the large living room, only Sylvan and Joe remained.
Joe was dressed in a casual grey overcoat, tall in stature; but standing in front of Sylvan, he seemed a bit less steady and more impulsive.
Sylvan put out the cigarette in his hand and tossed the butt into the ashtray.
"You've come just in time for dinner," Sylvan said indifferently.
