to-day the zest is gone! I no longer care." He felt the pressure
of her hand. "Are you just a little sorry for me?" he asked.
"Sorry for a weakness you do not understand? You must think me a
fool."

"I know you are unhappy," replied Virginia, gently. "I am truly
sorry for that."

"Are you? Are you, indeed?" he cried. "Unhappiness is worth such
pity as yours." He brooded for a moment, then threw his hands out
with what might have been a gesture of desperate indifference.
Suddenly his mood changed in the whimsical, bewildering fashion of
the man. "Ah, a star shoots!" he exclaimed, gayly. "That means a
kiss!"

Still laughing, he attempted to draw her to him. Angry, mortified,
outraged, she fought herself free and leaped to her feet.

"Oh!" she cried, in insulted anger.

"Oh!" she cried, in a red shame.

"_Oh!_" she cried, in sorrow.

Her calm broke. She burst into the violent sobbing of a child, and
turned and ran hurriedly to the factory.

Ned Trent stared after her a minute from beneath scowling brows.
He stamped his moccasined foot impatiently.