"Any beautiful ones richer?"
"I'm not up in that kind of statistics. Major Cadwallader Hunter is."
"Yes. But I don't care for the fellow. I'd rather take counsel with you. Do you know Miss Coolidge?"
"No."
"I wish you did."
"Would you like me to use my influence with her?"
"I should like you to use your influence with me to keep me up to the mark. She's rather hard to talk to. So different from you."
"She knows her value. She's 'worth' several millions, as we say in America. (I wish we didn't!) Why should she worry to make herself agreeable? She can get all the attention she wants without bothering. Whereas, we poor girls have to work hard, if we want to be popular in spite of our poverty."
"I suppose there's something in that," said Loveland, too deeply absorbed in his own affairs not to take her in earnest. And the girl would have liked to turn a scornful shoulder upon him, if his voice had not been so nice, and if he had not been so handsome. As it was, she wanted to turn upon herself, because she knew that she was influenced by the nice voice, the clear features, and the black-lashed blue eyes. "He is a perfectly worthless young man," she reflected savagely, yet she did not tell him, as he deserved, that she had reconsidered and would not after all undertake the extra hard work of being his guide, philosopher and friend.
"It will be an experience for me," she thought. And she remembered that she had summed up his character from the first. The revelations he had just made of his inner self ought not now to surprise her.