“Manage a place like this? In a busy office district. It's the most wonderful apartment in New York. Riverside has nothing like it. It must cost like sixty.”
“The building is mine, Kitty. That makes it possible. An uncle who knew I hated money and the responsibilities that go with it, died and left it to me.”
“Why, Cutty, you must be rich!”
“I'm sorry. What can I do? I can't give it away.”
“But you don't have to work!”
“Oh, yes, I do. I'm that kind. I'd die of a broken heart if I had to sit still. It's the game.”
“Did mother know?”
“Yes.”
With the toe of a snug little bronze boot Kitty drew an outline round a pattern in the rug.
“Love is a funny thing,” was her comment.