in the world for me."

"Oh, ain't you the kidder!" smiled Masie. "How many other girls did
you ever tell that?"

But Carter persisted. And at length he reached the flimsy, fluttering
little soul of the shopgirl that existed somewhere deep down in her
lovely bosom. His words penetrated the heart whose very lightness was
its safest armor. She looked up at him with eyes that saw. And a warm
glow visited her cool cheeks. Tremblingly, awfully, her moth wings
closed, and she seemed about to settle upon the flower of love. Some
faint glimmer of life and its possibilities on the other side of her
glove counter dawned upon her. Carter felt the change and crowded the
opportunity.

"Marry me, Masie," he whispered softly, "and we will go away from
this ugly city to beautiful ones. We will forget work and business,
and life will be one long holiday. I know where I should take you--I
have been there often. Just think of a shore where summer is eternal,
where the waves are always rippling on the lovely beach and the
people are happy and free as children. We will sail to those shores
and remain there as long as you please. In one of those far-away
cities there are grand and lovely palaces and towers full of
beautiful pictures and statues. The streets of the city are water,
and one travels about in--"

"I know," said Masie, sitting up suddenly. "Gondolas."

"Yes," smiled Carter.