you?"

"I am dying with curiosity!"

Voice and manner seemed to encourage, and the gambler felt his heart
leap within him.

"Well, I guess it's principally to see you!" he muttered, but his lips
quivered with emotion.

She laughed.

"Just see how mistaken one may be, Andy; I thought all along it was
Marsh!"

At her use of his Christian name his heavy face became radiant. His
purposes were usually allied to an admirable directness of speech that
never left one long in doubt as to his full meaning.

"Look here, aren't you about sick of Marsh?" he asked. "How long are you
going to stand for this sort of thing? You have a right to expect
something better than he has to offer you!"

She met the glance of his burning black eyes with undisturbed serenity,
but a cruel smile had come again to the corners of her mouth. She was
preparing to settle her score with Gilmore in a fashion he would not
soon forget. One of her hands rested on the arm of her chair, and the
gambler's ringed fingers closed about it; but apparently she was unaware
of this; at least she did not seek to withdraw it.

"By God, you're pretty!" he cried.

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly.

"Mean,--don't you know that I love you? Have I got to make it plain that
I care for you,--that you are everything to me?" he asked, bending
toward her.

"So you care a great deal about me, do you, Andy?" she asked slowly.

"I like to hear you call me that!" he said with a deep breath.

"What is it, Andy--what do you want?" she continued.

"You--you!" he said hoarsely; his face was white, he had come to the end
of long days of hope and doubt; he had battered down every obstacle that
stood in his path and he was telling her of his love, nor did she seem
unwilling to hear him. "You are the whole thing to me! I have loved you
always--ever since I first saw you! Tell me you'll quit this place with
me--I swear I'll make you happy--"

His face was very close to hers, and guessing his purpose she snatched
away her hand. Then she laughed.

As the sound of her merriment fell on Gilmore's startled ears, there
swiftly came to him the consciousness that something was wrong.

"You and your love-making are very funny, Mr. Gilmore; but there is one
thing you don't seem to understand. There is such a thing as taste in
selection even when it has ceased to be a matter of morals. I don't like
you, Mr. Gilmore. You amused me, but you are merely tiresome now."

She spok