But if I had Drake's money, I'd make you."
"Do you think it is his money?"
"Perhaps not. But the world will think it."
"If--if he wanted me, I'd marry him if he were a beggar in the streets."
"Has it gone as far as that? But you wouldn't marry a beggar. A
troubadour beneath your balcony, yes. But not a beggar. You'd want
him silken and blond and singing, and staying at home while other men
fought--"
She stopped at once. "If you knew what you were talking about; I'd
never speak to you again. But because I was fool enough once to
believe that Derry Drake was a coward, I am going to forgive you. But
I shall not dance with you again; ever--"
Making her way back alone to the box, she saw with a throb of relief
that her father had joined Emily and Marion Gray.
He uttered a quick exclamation as she came up. "What's the matter,
daughter?"
Her throat was dry. "I can't tell you now--there are too many people.
It was Ralph. I hate him, Daddy."
"My dear--"
"I do."
"But why?"
"Please, I don't want to talk about it--wait until we get home."
Looking out over the heads of the swaying crowd, she saw that Derry was
dancing with Alma Drew.
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