sort. Forget her. You can't do anything. I've tried and failed."

"I may fail, but I haven't tried. You dispose of her as if she
didn't count."

"What can I do? I shouldn't have mentioned her." Selwyn's forehead
ridged frowningly, and, taking out his watch, he looked at it, took
up his hat and coat, and held out his hand.

"Thank you for letting me talk to you. And don't worry about the
other girl. You can't do anything."

"Perhaps I can't, but you said just now one of the many things you
couldn't understand in women was their disregard of other women.
That Mildred would probably give the girl no thought. The rich girl,
you meant."

"Well--" Selwyn waited. "I did say it, but I don't see what you're
getting at."

"That sometimes women do remember the woman who has to pay--the
price; do give a thought to the girl who is left to pay it alone.
Come to-morrow--no, not to-morrow. Come next week. It will take
Mrs. Mundy until then to--"

"Mrs. Mundy has nothing to do with Miss Swink. The other girl, I
told you, can take care of herself. You mustn't look into that side
of it. I'll attend to that, do what is necessary. It's only about
her you seem to be thinking."