"Does he live like this?"
"Rather more grandly," said Ellen.
Selma shook her head. A depressed expression settled upon her features. "It's useless," she said. "He couldn't possibly become a man."
Ellen laughed. "You must hurry," she said. "We're keeping everyone waiting."
As Selma was making a few passes at her rebellious thick hair—passes the like of which Miss Clearwater had never before seen—she explained:
"I've been somewhat interested in David Hull of late—have been hoping he could graduate from a fake reformer into a useful citizen. But—" She looked round expressively at the luxury surrounding them—"one might as well try to grow wheat in sand."
"Davy is a fine fraud," said Ellen. "Fine—because he doesn't in the least realize that he's a fraud."
"I'm afraid he is a fraud," said Selma setting on her hat again. "What a pity? He might have been a man, if he'd been brought up properly." She gazed at Ellen with sad, shining eyes. "How many men and women luxury blights!" she cried.
"It certainly has done for Davy," said Ellen lightly. "He'll never be anything but a respectable fraud."
"Why do YOU think so?" Selma inquired.