“Who loves me? I don’t know, Gordon. I have many men friends and go about much.”
“Is there any one whom you love? It’s a rotten thing to ask but—hang it all, I’m—jealous!”
What was the little heart-pinch that came to Madeline then? Why should her thoughts flee secretly to some torn pieces of paper in an envelope in her bottom dresser drawer?
“Not enough to marry, Gordon. That’s as far as I want to be interrogated.”
“Madge! Have I got a chance?”
The girl smiled, a wonderful smile.
“All the chance in the world, Gordon. Go through with this thing and you’ll prove yourself a man!”
“Madge! There never was a woman like you. There’ll never be another.”
“Fiddlesticks! The world is filled with women like myself!”
“Then they don’t move on the strata where the fellows who need them most can contact them.”