"I beg your pardon——"
"I said that you would marry well. Was that funny? I also said, once—and I repeat it now, that I have my own plans for one or two girls—Strelsa Leeds included. I merely asked you to respect my wishes in that single matter; and bang! you go off and blow up and maroon yourself and sulk until nobody knows what's the matter with you. Don't be a fool. Everybody likes you; every girl can't love you—but I'll bet many of 'em do.... Pick one out and come to me—if that's your trouble. Go ahead and pick out what you fancy; and ten to one it will be all right, and between you and me we'll land the little lady!"
"You're tremendously kind——"
"I know I am. I'm always doing kindnesses—and nobody likes me, and they'd bite my head off, every one of 'em—if they weren't afraid it would disagree with them," she added grimly.
Quarren rose and came over to the bedside.
"Good-bye, Mrs. Sprowl," he said. "And—I like you—somehow—I really do."
"The devil you do," said the old lady.
"It's a curious fact," he insisted, smiling.
"Get out with you, Ricky! And I want you to come——"
"No—please."