“I always suspected it. Pity you didn’t marry him. He made about half a million out there, didn’t he, in that gold mine?”
“I don’t know just what he made. That has nothing to do with it. Ever since he came back to New York to live, three months ago, I’ve seen a great deal of him—”
“I should say you had. If I hadn’t thought him such a good friend of Donald’s I’d have been suspicious long ago. I’ve envied you often enough, your auto rides, and luncheons at the Knickerbocker, and dinners, and theater parties. He doesn’t mind spending his money—that’s one thing sure, but I never thought—” She paused and looked at her sister with renewed interest. “Is he in love with you now?”
“Yes.” Edith spoke slowly—almost as though to herself. The thought was apparently not distasteful to her.
“You don’t say so! The plot thickens. So that’s why he’s been here morning, noon and night. Does Donald know?”
“Donald! Of course not.”
“Has Billy said anything?”
“Said anything? To whom?”
“To you, of course. Has he told you that he still loves you?”
“Yes.”