"Pooh! You would sacrifice her and a dozen like her to your Moloch of an airship," I said lightly.
"I wouldn't," he insisted; "but Mabel couldn't expect me to throw over everything to dance at her heels."
"She could expect it, and she did expect it. Weston, you don't know the sex."
"I know Mabel, and I love Mabel," he muttered, "but since she won't have me there is no more to be said. I expect to hear she has married Marr."
"You expect wrongly then," said I with a shrug; "Marr has gone to America for an indefinite period, and is out of the running."
"Then there's a chance for me," he said, his dark face lightening up.
"If you play your cards properly."
"Show me how to play, then," he asked me, and I laughed.
"Good Lord man, you aren't a child, to be shown what to do. Make a fuss with Mabel, and show her--as she deserves to be shown--that she is the one woman in the world for you."
"So she is, so she is. I love her no end. Upon my soul I do."