"All right," he said. "I don't blame you in the least, Loretta. And you
have been very honest. But Billy is right, and you are wrong. You must
get married."

"To Billy?" she asked, in a dim, far-away voice.

"Yes, to Billy. I'll see to it. Where does he live? I'll make him."

"But I don't want to marry Billy!" she cried out in alarm. "Oh, Ned, you
won't do that?"

"I shall," he answered sternly. "You must. And Billy must. Do you
understand?"

Loretta buried her face in the cushioned chair back, and broke into a
passionate storm of sobs.

All that Bashford could make out at first, as he listened, was: "But I
don't want to leave Daisy! I don't want to leave Daisy!"

He paced grimly back and forth, then stopped curiously to listen.

"How was I to know?--Boo--hoo," Loretta was crying. "He didn't tell me.
Nobody else ever kissed me. I never dreamed a kiss could be so terrible .
. . until, boo-hoo . . . until he wrote to me. I only got the letter this
morning."

His face brightened. It seemed as though light was dawning on him.

"Is that what you're crying about?"