“You won't go back to your father?”
“If he sees fit to beg my pardon and acknowledge that I was right—not otherwise. And he must do it of his own accord. I told him that when I walked out of his office. It was my contribution to our fond farewell. His was that he would see me damned first. Possibly he may.”
She smiled.
“You must have been a charming pair of pepper pots,” she observed. “And the young lady—what of her?”
“She knows that I am fired, cut off even without the usual shilling. That will be quite sufficient for her, I think.”
“How do you know it will? How do you know she might not have been willing to wait while you earned that living you are so sure is coming?”
“Wait? She wait for me? Ann Davidson wait for a man without a cent while he tried to earn a good many dollars? Humph! you amuse me.”
“Why not? You didn't give her a chance. You calmly took it for granted that she wanted only money and social position and you walked off and left her. How do you know she wouldn't have liked you better for telling her just how you felt. If a girl really cared for a man it seems to me that she would be willing to wait for him, years and years if it were necessary, provided that, during that time, he was trying his best for her.”
“But—but—she isn't that kind of a girl.”
“How do you know? You didn't put her to the test. You owed her that. It seems to me you owe it to her now.”