"Does it? Are you going to turn me adrift to bore myself at the Club?"

"Oh, men have so many resources! And it is you who have given all. I
had nothing to give you."

"You forget, my dear Mrs. Talbot, that man is never so flattered as
when some woman thinks him an oracle. Besides, although yours is the
best mind in any pretty woman's head I know of--in any woman's head
for that matter--you still have much to learn, and I should feel very
jealous if you learned it elsewhere."

"Oh, I could learn from books, I suppose. There are many more in the
world than I shall ever be able to read. But--well, I had a friend
for the first time--the kind of friend I wanted."

"You are in no danger of losing him. I haven't the least intention
of giving you up. Real friendships are too rare, especially those
founded on mental sympathy, and a man's life is barren indeed when
his friends are only men."

"Have you had any woman friends before?" Her eyelids were lowered
but she shot him a swift glance.

"Well--no--to be honest, I cannot say I have. Flirtations and all
that, yes. During the last eight years, between the war and earning
my bread, I've had little time. Everything went, of course. I wrote
for a while for a Richmond paper and then went to New York. That was
hard sledding for a time and Southerners are not welcome in New York
Society. If I bore you with my personal affairs it is merely to give
you a glimpse of a rather arid life, and, perhaps, some idea of how