woman who takes the least and most innocent notice of you."

He said, very much amused: "I was perfectly serious over you,
Geraldine."

"The selfish always take themselves seriously."

It was she, however, who now sat there bright-eyed and unsmiling, and he
was still laughing, deftly balancing his crop on one finger, and
glancing at her from time to time with that glimmer of ever-latent
mockery which always made her restive at first, then irritated her with
an unreasoning desire to hurt him somehow. But she never seemed able to
reach him.

"Sooner or later," she said, "women will find you out, thoroughly."

"And then, just think what a rush there will be to marry me!"

"There will be a rush to avoid you, Duane. And it will set in before you
know it--" She thought of the recent gossip coupling his name with
Rosalie's, reddened and bit her lip in silence. But somehow the thought
irritated her into speech again:

"Fortunately, I was among the first to find you out--the first, I
think."

"Heavens! when was that?" he asked in pretended concern, which
infuriated her.

"You had better not ask me," she flashed back. "When a woman suddenly