“Broken romance? Or just plain broke?” asked McCall.
“Just plain broke,” laughed Robert. “I’ll tell you about it at lunch.”
They ate at the Press Club, a few blocks away from the hotel, a comfortable place on the top of an office building, across the street from the City Hall.
“Once in a while you see a newspaper man here,” said McCall gravely. “Usually you find them sleeping on the couches. But most of these men are professional men—lawyers, prominent officials, bankers, and so forth. That old gentleman with the long hair is a poet. Does cowboy verse. That thin, gray-haired fellow is a literary critic. Runs a little magazine. What do you want? The ham and eggs are very good.”
McCall described some of the parties that had been held at the Press Club in the old days and particularly of the night they had entertained the Milwaukee Press Club. The visitors had been met at the “L” station by a reception committee in weird costumes and paraded to the club in brewery trucks, headed by a band. The program had been drawn up with a view to shocking, if possible, the visitors, and beer, whiskey and sandwiches had circulated freely. At the conclusion women from—well, it didn’t matter where they were from—had danced the dance of the seven veils, without the veils. Some of the trustees had been shocked and the program committee had been reprimanded and suspended.
“And now what were you going to tell me?”
Robert explained in a general way how the Hamilton interests had met with reverses, and allowed McCall to infer that he had come to Chicago on business connected with the corporation. It saved explanations.
“Now, of course, I know that Margaret doesn’t want me because of my money, but I haven’t had the courage to tell her. Of course, she ought to know. What would you do?”
“I’d tell her, Ham. I’d tell her openly. Of course, you’re sure you love her. That’s the main thing.”
“I’m going to marry her,” replied Robert. In his own mind the answer suddenly flared like a light. “I am going to marry her.” It was loyalty to her, loyalty to his promise, loyalty to an idea, and perhaps to an old love. Was it anything else? He suddenly remembered something.