“Don’t you know?” She turned and looked at him squarely. She was determined to dispose of his attentions then and there.
“I’m not good at riddles.”
“Think a moment, then. You are Harry Boland, only son of the richest and most powerful man in Chicago. I am Patience Welcome, daughter of a broken inventor, tenant in a cottage which you own, where I cannot pay the rent. Can there be anything in common between us?”
Harry ignored the question. “You have forgotten one fact,” he said. There was determination in his voice. “Or don’t you know it?”
“What is that?” asked Patience over her shoulder, for she had turned from him.
“That Harry Boland is in love with Patience Welcome.”
“What an absurdity!”
“You don’t believe me?”
“How can you talk like that to me?” said the girl, now agitated. “Look at me. You know we are in arrears for rent.”
“Don’t worry about that.”