commercial, partly belated justice, partly eugenic and partly personal."

"Your money is quite gone, is it not?" asked Diane, raising finely
arched expressive eyebrows.

"It is," admitted Carl ruefully. "My career as a bibulous meteor is
over. Last night, after an exquisite shower of golden fire, I came
tumbling to earth in the fashion of meteors, a disillusioned stone. In
other words--stone broke. May I smoke?"

"Assuredly."

Carl lighted a cigarette.

"And the proposition which is at the same time commercial, eugenic
and--er--personal?" reminded Diane curiously. Carl ignored the
delicate note of sarcasm.

"It is merely," he said with a flash of impudence, "that you will marry
me."

Diane's eyes widened.

"How frankly commercial!" she murmured.

"Isn't it?" said Carl. "And an excellent opportunity for belated
justice as well. My mother, save for our infernal Salic law of
inheritance, was entitled to half the Westfall estate."

Diane stared curiously at the fire-rimmed hem of her satin skirt.