“It sure is, old-timer. But what put the thought into your head?”
“I was thinking how very much mumsy must have been in love with father.”
“But she never knew that I loved her, Kitty.”
“What's that got to do with it? If she had wanted money you wouldn't have had the least chance in the world.”
“Probably not! But what would you have done in your mother's place?”
“Snapped you up like that!” Kitty flashed back.
“You cheerful little—little—”
“Liar. Say it!” Kitty laughed. “But am I a cheerful little liar? I don't know. It would be an awful temptation. Somebody to wait on you; heaps of flowers when you wanted them; beautiful gowns and thingummies and furs and limousines. I've often wondered what I should do if I found myself with love and youth on one side and money and attraction on the other. I've always been in straitened circumstances. I never spent a dollar in all my days when I didn't think I ought to have held back three or four cents of it. You can't know, Cutty, what it is to be poor and want beautiful things and good times. Of course. I couldn't marry just money. There would have to be some kind of a man to go with it. Someone interesting enough to make me forget sometimes that I'd thrown away a lover for a pocket-book.”
“Would you marry me, Kitty?”
“Are you serious?”