Something in her voice as she uttered the last words made him turn
toward her again. As he looked, his young face softened. She waited in
silence for what he would say.

He sat up and straightened his shoulders with a quick gesture.

"You are right," he said, "but I'm awfully afraid you'll get the worst
of it. I'm not an ornamental escort for a lady, as you see." He looked
at his broken shoe, and then at her. Her expression showed entire
indifference to the point he had raised.

"We will consider it settled," she said. "You will take my purse and
pay our joint expenses. I think," she went on, as she handed it to
him, "we'll omit the Metropolitan. After miles of the Louvre and the
Luxembourg and the Vatican, I don't seem to crave miles of that.
Suppose we take a cab and drive round. I want to see the streets, and
the crowds, and the different types of men and women, and the slums. I
used to be interested in Settlement work, long ago."

"Pardon me," he said. "You have won your case. I will serve you to the
best of my ability. But as a preliminary I insist on counting the
money in this purse, and on your seeing that my accounts are all
right."

"Do as you like about that," she replied, indifferently, but her
glance rested on him with a glint of approval.

He deliberately counted the bills. "There are three hundred and forty
dollars," he said, replacing them.