"Business," he answered laconically; "I am a reporter now."
"Yes, I heard so from your aunt. You have not favored me with a call now for weeks," she said, "and you are a naughty boy to neglect me."
"You are looking charming, as usual," he answered, glancing at her exquisite costume, very décolleté, and feeling that it was what he must say.
"Of course," she replied, "every man feels that he must say that, but you needn't. Compliments are like perfume, to be inhaled, not swallowed; so let the rest utter them, and you can spare me. I'd rather know how you are getting on."
"Fairly well," he answered coolly, for he had really kept away from her for weeks from a lurking sense of danger to his own feelings. "It is an occupation that keeps me busy and makes a living, that is all. It may lead to something better."
"I read your splendid exposé of Weston & Hill," she continued, still smiling admiration, "and it did my heart good. I wish Weston could see it. And that poor widow whose plight you described—it was pitiful."
"Only a sample case of the evil wrought by such as Weston," Winn answered modestly. "I wish I knew where he is; I'd mail him a marked copy of the paper."
Then, as some one came up to claim her for a dance, she said hurriedly, "I must leave you now, but please promise to call to-morrow evening, I've lots I want to ask you."
And Winn, yielding to the magic of her luring eyes, promised and went his way.
It was after midnight before he finished his column account of this affair, and turning it over to the night editor, left the newspaper office.