Hugh solemnly dissented. "Those lines," he said, "could never have been made by mere genius!"
She stared at him a moment and then at Mrs. Gilmore, who was escaping by the outer door and who replied: "My dear, every line made for you has been made by Mr. Hugh." She vanished while the two stood dumbly face to face, but on second thought was back again just in time to see and hear Ramsey say, still gazing:
"Well, of—all—things! You! That frightful rubbish! You've got to sing the rest, yourself! Oh, Mrs. Gilmore, make him do it! It'll tickle 'em all to death—to hear him sing Gideon's Band!—and I can stay with Basile."
"Preposterous!" rumbled Hugh, and again, "preposterous!"
"Why—happy thought!" said Mrs. Gilmore. "Why, the very thing, Mr. Hugh, the very thing! Come. First we'll take this young lady up-stairs——" As they started the Californian appeared, laying a caressing hand on Hugh.
XLI
QUITS
"Wait here," slowly said Hugh in response to the gold-hunter's touch. "I'll—see you presently."
The modest adventurer waved assent, yet looked so disappointed that Mrs. Gilmore, moving to take his arm, asked: