Yet, do you know,
Frank, if you got a sweetheart, I believe I'd scratch her eyes
out. It's rather fine of me to tell you all that," she went on,
with a smile, "for I'm giving you the key of the combination, and
you might take advantage of it!"
"Florence," he said, "I thought at first you were just laughing at
me, but I see that you are right. You are heartless. You oughtn't
to talk like that."
She looked a shade put out.
"Well, Frank, it's the truth, anyway," she said, "and in the old
days we were always such sticklers for the truth--for sincerity,
you know--weren't we?"
"I have no business to correct you," he said humbly. "I resigned
all my pretensions that morning in the old house."
"Well, so long as you love me still!" she exclaimed, with a little
mocking laugh. "That's the great thing, isn't it? I mean for me,
of course. I am greedy for love. It makes me feel so safe and
comfortable to think there are whole rows of men that love me.
When you have a great fortune you begin to appreciate the things
that money cannot buy."
"Oh, your money!" he said. That word in her mouth always stung
him.
"Well, you ought to hate my money," she remarked cheerfully. "It
queered you, didn't it? And then all rich people are detestable,
anyway--selfish to the core, and horrid. Do you know that
sometimes when I have flirted awfully with a man at a dinner or
somewhere, and the next day he telephones--and the telephone is in
the next room--I've just said: 'Oh, bother! tell him I'm out,'
rather than take the trouble to get up from my chair.
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