Mrs. Charlton Denyse, relict of the late Charley Dennis, turned a deep Tyrian purple. "If you would be good enough—" she began, when the girl broke in:—
"Is your message immediate, Mrs. Denyse?"
"It is from my cousin, Mr. Van Dam."
"To me?" cried the girl.
"No. To me. By wireless. But it concerns you."
"In that case I don't think I'm interested," said the girl, her color rising. "You must excuse me." And she walked on.
"Then the gentlemanly spider on the hot griddle loses," murmured the Tyro.
"I don't know whom you mean," said the girl, obstinately.
"I mean that your foot-destroying 'Never-never-never' holds good."
"Yes," she replied. "I did think I might marry him once. But now," she added pensively and unguardedly, "I know I never could."