"Yes."
"No!" he contradicted, flatly. "But I'll do more— I'll let you tell Mrs. Vandergilt that you own the only engine of destruction available against man's stupidity."
Knowing that he was alluding to her beauty, she said:
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, I belong to you, don't I? And if women are to get the vote can't you tell dear Ethel's mother—"
"Do you mean old Mrs. Vandergilt?" she interrupted.
"Yes."
"Then say so."
"I will," he meekly promised. "You tell the old lady that you will insure success for the Cause by lending me to her. I've got a scheme that will do more in a month than all the suffragettes have accomplished in fifty years. You might get Ethel interested in my plan—"
"I won't!" She smiled the forgiving smile that infuriates. She lost her head. "You think I am jeal—that I'm—"