"Well?" asked Mrs. Porter.
"Take her away," he said quietly. "Take her out of here. Let her go to
him. I have done with her."
"I suppose so," said Mrs. Porter, and left the room.
Chapter VII
Sufficient Unto Themselves
Some months after John Bannister had spoken his ultimatum in the
library two drought-stricken men met on the Rialto. It was a close June
evening, full of thirst.
"I could do with a drink," said the first man. "Several."
"My tongue is black clear down to the roots," said the second.
"Let's go up to Kirk Winfield's," proposed the first man, inspired.
"Not for me," said the other briefly. "Haven't you heard about Kirk?
He's married!"
"I know--but----"
"And when I say married, I mean _married_. She's old John
Bannister's daughter, you know, and I guess she inherits her father's
character. She's what I call a determined girl. She seems to have made
up her mind that the old crowd that used to trail around the studio
aren't needed any longer, and they've been hitting the sidewalk on one
ear ever since the honeymoon.
"If you want to see her in action, go up there now. She'll be perfectly
sweet and friendly, but somehow you'll get the notion that you don't
want to go there again, and that she can bear up if you don't. It's
something in her manner. I guess it's a trick these society girls
learn.
Pages:
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98