"I will do it," said Ruth. "I don't want to injure her any more. Let them go home in peace."
"Very well." Duvall rose to go. "Permit me to say, Mrs. Morton, that I admire your daughter's generosity very much. Good morning." He and Grace bade their hosts good-by and took their leave.
"She's a lovely girl," Grace remarked, as they drove to their hotel. "I like her immensely."
"Then you aren't jealous of me any more, because I so suddenly became a motion-picture 'fan'?"
"Richard!" she laughed. "Don't be silly. I suppose I shall always be jealous of you when a girl, as beautiful as Ruth Morton, is concerned. After all, to be jealous is only a woman's way of paying tribute to another woman's charms."
Duvall laughed.
"It was Miss Ford's way, too," he said, "but as a means of showing one's appreciation it had its faults."
THE END.
THE NOVELS OF MARY ROBERTS RINEHART
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