There's
that fellow gets worshipped by every one, from the Irish saloon-keeper
up to Leonore. While look at me! I'm a clever, sweet-tempered, friendly
sort of a chap, but nobody worships me. There isn't any one who gives a
second thought for yours truly. I seem good for nothing, except being
best man to much luckier chaps. While look at Peter! He's won the love
of a lovely girl, who worships him to a degree simply inconceivable. I
never saw such idealization."
"Then you haven't been watching Peter," said Mrs. D'Alloi, who, as a
mother, had no intention of having it supposed that Leonore was not more
loved than loving.
"Taking modern marriage as a basis--" said Mr. Pierce.
"Oh," laughed Dorothy, "there's no doubt they are a pair, and I'm very
proud of it, because I did it."
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" crowed Ray.
"I did," said Dorothy, "and my own husband is not the one to cast
reflection on my statement."
"He's the only one who dares," said Ogden.
"Well, I did. Leonore would never have cared for such a silent, serious
man if I hadn't shown her that other women did, and--"
"Nonsense," laughed Ogden.
Pages:
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795