“I used to think he was, but of late he told me he was a widower.”
“Oh, that’s it. I suppose he has lots of people visit his studio?”
“Quite a number.”
“Ladies and gentlemen?”
“Ladies particularly—he’s very fond of the gentle sex, and they quite make a hero of him.”
Darrell smiled.
He had seen stage favorites whom the silly women of New York were wont to rave over, and knew just how foolishly they could act.
Thank heaven all women are not alike, and yet their weak points are more or less developed in the whole sex, as with men.
He sighed as he thought of it, and then he turned again, loyal to the resolve he had made not to condemn Lillian without the most absolute proof.
As he left the building he remembered the hack driver.