“Yes, I know what I’ve done but I wondered if you—others would see it.”
“My boy, it will be a riot,” said De Gollyer solemnly. “You’ve given me a thrill, you have, and that’s a fact. How the devil did it happen?”
Dangerfield silently extended his hand toward the door through which Inga had passed.
“It was sink or swim. Kismet, that’s the answer.”
“We gave you six months down at the club,” said De Gollyer. “Remember the last night you were there?”
“I remember.”
“We expected anything then—any moment.”
“And you were right.”
“We lost track of you. We heard you’d dropped out. How in thunder did she ever do it?”
“There are some women, very few, in this world,” said Dangerfield slowly, “who were put here to do just such things, who are only happy when they are giving everything, pulling some poor devil out of the gutter and putting him on his feet again,—some one of course worth the saving.”