"Poor devil!" said Blaydes, tipping the end of his cigarette into the fire-"he's in love with a girl who's been in prison three times. He thinks she'll kill herself—and he can't influence her at all. He takes it hard. Well, now look here"—the young man's expression changed and stiffened—"I understand that you too are seeing a good deal of one of these wild women—and that she's both rich—and a beauty?"
He looked up, with a laugh.
Lathrop's aspect was undisturbed.
"Nothing to do with it!—though your silly little mind will no doubt go on thinking so."
The other laughed again—with a more emphatic mockery. Lathrop reddened—then said quietly—
"Well, I admit that was a lie. Yes, she is handsome—and if she were to stick to it—sacrifice all her life to it—in time she might make a horrible success of this thing. Will she stick to it?"
"Are you in love with her, Paul?"
"Of course! I am in love with all pretty women—especially when I daren't shew it."
"You daren't shew it?"
"The smallest advance on my part, in this quarter, brings me a rap on the knuckles. I try to pitch what I have to say in the most impersonal and romantic terms. No good at all! But all egg-dancing is amusing, so I dance—and accept all the drudgery she and Alecto give me to do."