THE GAME


CHAPTER I


Many patterns of carpet lay rolled out before them on the floor--two of
Brussels showed the beginning of their quest, and its ending in that
direction; while a score of ingrains lured their eyes and prolonged the
debate between desire pocket-book. The head of the department did them
the honor of waiting upon them himself--or did Joe the honor, as she well
knew, for she had noted the open-mouthed awe of the elevator boy who
brought them up. Nor had she been blind to the marked respect shown Joe
by the urchins and groups of young fellows on corners, when she walked
with him in their own neighborhood down at the west end of the town.

But the head of the department was called away to the telephone, and in
her mind the splendid promise of the carpets and the irk of the pocket-
book were thrust aside by a greater doubt and anxiety.

"But I don't see what you find to like in it, Joe," she said softly, the
note of insistence in her words betraying recent and unsatisfactory
discussion.

For a fleeting moment a shadow darkened his boyish face, to be replaced
by the glow of tenderness. He was only a boy, as she was only a girl--two
young things on the threshold of life, house-renting and buying carpets
together.

"What's the good of worrying?" he questioned. "It's the last go, the