"That here we are and here we intend to abide, on these principles—no matter what the rest of the world does or says or thinks."
"I admit, Johnnie, that that would be the ideal way, but—" interrupted Darrie—
"But nothing—I'm tired of sneaking around, hiding from grocers and butcher boys, when everybody knows—
"And besides, Hildreth," turning to her, taking her in my arms, kissing her tenderly on the brow—"don't you see what it all means?
"As long as I pretend not to be living with you I'm considered a sly dog that seduced his friend's wife and got away with it ... 'served him right, the husband, for being such a boob!' ... 'rather a clever chap, that Gregory, don't you know, not to be blamed much, eh?' ... 'only human, eh?' ...—'she's a deuced pretty little woman, they say!'
"Can't you see the sly looks, the nudges they give each other, as they gossip in the clubs?"
"Don't let your imagination get the better of you, please don't!" urged Darrie....
"No," I went on, "I'm going to send right now for Jerome Miller, a newspaper lad I knew in Kansas, who's now in New York on a paper, and give him an interview that will set us right with the stupid world once and for all. Miller was a fellow student of mine at Laurel ... he's a fine, square chap who will give me a clean break ... was president of our Scoop Club."
"Darling, darling, dearest," pleaded Hildreth, "I thought you had about enough of the newspapers ... you've seen how they've distorted all our ideals ... how our attempt to use them for propaganda has gone to smash ... how they pervert ... the filth and abuse they heap upon pioneers of thought in any direction—why wake the wild beasts up again?"
"What's the use believing in anything, if we don't stick up for what we believe?"