CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Dolph, being Dolph, spoke out his fears to Opdyke. Dolph, being a rhetorician, approached his subject cornerwise, however.
"I wish to heaven you'd fall in love with Olive, Opdyke," he said moodily, next day.
Reed, looking up from the chaos of letters that were littering his couch, gave a short laugh.
"So that I could properly present my sympathy to you?" he queried, as a faint colour stole up across his cheeks.
Dolph dropped his rhetoric, and went bluntly to the point.
"No; so that you could obliterate Brenton's image from her mind."
"What do you mean, Dennison?" Reed spoke sternly.
Dolph threw himself back in his chair and answered at the ceiling.