“Suppose I don’t choose to tell his rival?”
“Ain’t ashamed of him, are you?”
“Not at all. His name is John Elkton.”
“What’s that?” cried Will, suddenly, starting as if something had struck him.
“Why, Will,” she replied, in wonder, “what ails you?”
“John Elkton, you said?”
“Certainly.”
“He’s a salesman at White & Bradley’s ain’t he?”
“Yes,” she replied, with a nervous twitch of the fingers.
“Guess he’s out of the market, and the coast’s clear for this young man,” said Will, settling himself back easily in his chair. “That chap’s in quod.”