"I've thought all about that, and I think I understand."
"You know how it is," he went on. "If you were working without anybody's help, you might have a hard time getting an engagement. As an actress, you're only fair."
Laura toyed impatiently with her parasol.
"You needn't remind me of that," she said testily. "That part of my life is my own. I don't want you to start now and make it harder for me to do the right thing. It isn't fair; it isn't square, and it isn't right. You've got to let me go my own way." Putting her hand on the broker's shoulder, she went on: "I'm sorry to leave you, Will, in a way, but I want you to know that if I go with John it changes the spelling of the word 'comradeship' into 'love,' and the word 'mistress' into 'wife.' Now, please don't talk any more."
"Just a word," he interrupted. "Is it absolutely settled?"
"I told you I didn't know exactly what our plans are," she answered impatiently. "I shall know to-day—that's what I'm waiting for. I can't understand why he doesn't come."
The broker, whose gaze had been idly sweeping the cañon, suddenly sat up and pointed up the pass.
"Is that the fellow, coming up here?" he exclaimed.
Laura rose quickly from her seat, and, running to the balustrade, peered over.
"Where?" she asked.