" He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be. “You must not. Marvel, therefore, remained on his probation. “You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. I'll leave these out, and to-morrow you can read them through. But a biddable girl. We've got to make him take up the harp of life and go twanging it again. He was alarmed when she returned to the stage and her eyes passed over him in the audience. Probably she mistook you; probably she thought you cared. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. She felt terribly modern, even sporty as the magazines declared you should be. “You silly wimmin,” he said over and over again throughout the hearing, plucking at his blotting-pad with busy hands. ” He replied.
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