"Not to me."
There was a period of silence and then Waddles grunted again.
"Get it off your chest," I advised him.
"That fellow," said Waddles, indicating Russell with a jerk of his thumb, "gives me a pain."
"And me," said I.
"I thought Mary Brooke had some sense," complained Waddles; "but I see now that she's like all the rest—anything with a high shine to it is gold. Now the pure metal often has a dull finish."
"Meaning Bill?" I asked.
"Meaning Bill. He isn't much to look at, but he's on the level, and he worships the very ground she walks on. Why can't she see it?"
"Why can't any woman see it?" I asked him.
"But somebody ought to tell her! Somebody ought to put her wise! Somebody——"