"And you've done this all your life?"
"Since that stormy evening."
"You have won—already you have won—"
"Not yet. I am beginning and I may win in the end if I keep steady, if I don't lose my head. I shall win in the end—perhaps—"
"You will win what?"
"A fortune it may be, or it may be even the thing that has made the fortune seem worth the having."
"And that is?" she asked simply.
"It is too long a story. Some day, if you will listen, I may tell you, but not now—"
The dance stopped, she rose to her feet, and George Bolingbroke, rushing excitedly to where we stood, claimed the coming Virginia reel as his own.
"Some day you shall tell me the long story, Ben Starr," she said, as she gave me her hand.