production, and it's going to cost a lot of money to do it here. I told
Charlie he could put me down for a half-interest and I'd give all the
money, provided that you got an important role. Great part, I'm
told--just the kind of thing you've been looking for. Looks as if it
might stay in New York all season. That's the change of plan. How does
it strike you?"

Laura averted her face and made no reply. Going to the edge of the
terrace, she leaned against the balustrade, and gazed once more into
the depths below. The sun had already begun to set behind the distant
mountain-tops, and the canon was beautiful in its tints of purple and
amber.

"How does it strike you?" he repeated.

"I don't know," she replied without turning her head.

He rose from his seat and strolled towards her. The good-humor had
faded out of his face. The lines about his mouth were more tightly
drawn. It was evident that his patience was exhausted and that he was
becoming angry. But Brockton never made a scene. No matter how incensed
he might be, he never lost his _sang froid_ or forgot his manners.
Quietly he asked:

"Feel like quitting?"

"I can't tell," she replied in the same indifferent tone.

"So it's the newspaper man, eh?"

"That would be the only reason."

Turning quickly, he placed himself in a position so that he faced her.
Looking her steadily in the eyes, he said slowly:

"You've been on the square with me this summer, haven't you?"

She instantly noted the change in his tone. Her face grew a shade
paler, but she looked up at him without flinching. Quickly she said:

"What do you mean by 'on the square'?"

"Don't evade," he exclaimed, slightly raising his voice. "There's only
one meaning when I say that--and you know it. I'm pretty liberal,
Laura, but you understand where I draw the line----" Sternly and more
slowly he added: "You've not jumped that, have you?"

The girl tossed her head haughtily. There are some questions no one may
ask or answer. She looked him straight in the face. He could read
nothing there. Quietly she said:

"This has been such a wonderful summer, such a wonderfully different
summer." It was her turn to be ironical when she added: "Can you
understand what I mean by that, when I say 'a wonderfully different
summer'?"

The broker smiled in spite of himself.

"So--he's thirty and 'broke,' and you're twenty-five and pretty. He
evidently, being a newspaper man, has that peculiar gift of gab that we