"Will I go?" he said, echoing the question of his friend, who stood looking out of the window with an appearance of indifference, which deceived no one. "Yes, I will; but I want you to understand that I don't go as you do, out of pure emotional piety, but only to see and hear Nora Costello."
"Well, she is worth it, isn't she?" Brady responded.
"Worth a trip down-town? Without doubt; but that is not the question that is lying down [Pg 308] in the depths of the locality you are pleased to call your heart. Come, now," he added, walking across to the window and throwing his arm over Brady's shoulder with one of his rare exhibitions of affection,—"come; make a clean breast of it, and let us talk the thing out from A to Z. Imprimis, you are in love with Nora Costello."
Brady started and moved away a trifle, but made no effort at denial till after a minute, when he said rather weakly, "What makes you think so?"
"Think so! Why, man, I must be deaf, dumb, and blind not to know it. Do you suppose I believed that a man at your time of life, brought up as you have been, had suddenly gone daft on this Salvation Army business?"
"It's a 'business', as you call it, that does more good than all the churches put together," answered Brady, hotly.
"Hear him!" echoed Flint, mockingly.
"Hear this son of New England actually declaring that there may be a way to heaven which does not lie between church-pews or start from a pulpit!"
"Flint, you are a scoffer."
"What do I scoff at?"