come to the surface since--like the slag when they melt iron and
skim it off with dippers--only with me there's nobody to dip. If
_I_ am astounded at the difference, what do you suppose you'll
be?"

"There never could be any difference to me," he said.

"That's the only kind of love worth talking about," she said,
going to the window and looking out.

For a while neither of them spoke. Frank rose and stood with his
hat in his hand, waiting to take his departure. Florence turned,
and going to an escritoire sat down and wrote a few lines on a
card.

"Present this to Captain Landry," she said, "and, now, my dear
chief engineer, I will give you your conge."

He thanked her, and put the card carefully in his pocketbook.

"What a farce it all is, Frank!" she broke out. "There's something
wrong in a system that gives a girl millions of dollars to do just
as she likes with. I don't care what they say to the contrary; I
believe women were meant to belong to men, to live in semi-slavery
and do what they are told, to bring up children and travel with
the pots and pans, and find their only reward in pleasing their
husbands."

"I wouldn't care to pass an opinion," said Frank. "Some of them
are happy that way, no doubt."