"And to whom is this book going to be dedicated?" asked Susan.
"Well, I don't know. Lillian has two, and Julie has one or two, and various men, here and in London. Perhaps I'll dedicate this one to a bold baggage of an Irish girl. Would you like that?"
"Oh, you couldn't!" Susan said, frightened.
"Why couldn't I?"
"Because,--I'd rather you wouldn't! I--and it would look odd!" stammered Susan.
"Would you care, if it did?" he asked, with that treacherous sudden drop in his voice that always stirred her heart so painfully.
"No-o---" Susan answered, scarcely above a whisper.
"What are you afraid of, little girl?" he asked, putting his hand over hers on the desk.
Susan moved her hand away.
"Because, your wife---" she began awkwardly, turning a fiery red.