"Pat, you are vulgar! Nancy is the finest, sweetest of girls. She would only marry for love."
"Sure thing, my lamb. And she could make love out of—anything."
Joan was thinking of Nancy's capacity for making truth.
"Dear, little, sweet Nan," she whispered.
"Just the right stuff out of which to make successful marriages. Who is the collector, Joan?"
"Pat, you make me angry!" Joan really was hurt.
"She doesn't tell me his name. She says——" here Joan referred to the letter; "'I am going to try and keep him until you come and see him. Joan, he is worth a trip from Chicago.'"
"You are—going?" asked Patricia.
"Pat—I am. Only for a visit, but suddenly I find myself crazy hungry for them all.
"I'll be back in a couple of weeks; I'll only lose three lessons and surely, Pat, you'll forgive me if I desert you for that one glimpse of my darling Nan and her man?"