"Oh, yes. Very pretty."
He had been repulsed, snubbed, and was rankling under the smart of it. It made him turn to the girl who had nothing but devotion for him for a salve to his wounded vanity. The girl who had just gone was provokingly desirable because of her cool eyes, her scornful mouth, her aloofness, the disdain of her. But Maggy was all his, living for him.
He took her in his arms almost savagely.
"You're worth ten of her," he exclaimed; and in his irritation believed what he said.
Her body relaxed submissively in the grip of his arms.
"Oh, my God, how I love you!" she murmured, trembling.
She laid her cheek against his and stroked his hand. "Will you do me a favor, Fred?" she went on presently, unconsciously taking advantage of what she regarded as a soft mood.
"What is it? A bit more money than I give you?"
"No. I don't want more money. I've got enough. I've never been greedy that way, have I?"
"No. More silly you. Women should make hay while the sun shines."