He went back to the fireplace, standing there with his hands behind his back.
"Oh, this is amusing enough. What does it matter, anyway? There are as big fools and shams in society as there are in my business. Look at the women that come down here, and the things they tell me! Why, I know them a good deal better now than I should if I were on their calling-lists and took tea with them! But you are right, in a way. I suppose some day I must quit this and take to honest theft."
"Don't say that, Frank! I hate you when you're cynical."
"What else can I be, in my profession?"
"Oh, I do want you to quit, Frank, really I do, and yet, I hate to think of it. What should I do? I'd lose you sure! I could never make good with the swells. I'm only a drifter."
"Oh, you can't lose me, Fan; we've pulled together too long. You could make good all right. You've got a pose and a poise that some ladies would give their teeth for. I don't believe you've ever really been surprised in your life, have you?"
"I guess not." Fancy shook her head thoughtfully. "When I am surprised, it'll be a woman who'll do it. No man can, that's sure."
"No. I fancy you know all there is to know about men. I wish I did. You'll do, Fancy Gray!" He approached her and playfully chucked her under the chin. Then he looked at her gravely. "I wonder why you're willing to drudge along here with me, anyway. You could get a much better position easily—with your face—and brains."
"And figure. Don't forget that!" Fancy shook her finger at him.
"Yes." He looked her over approvingly.