he said to her escort with a smile:

"Don't they stare? You'd think they had never seen a woman before."

Brockton laughed as he lit a fresh cigar.

"How do you know they're staring at you? I'm not such a bad looker
myself."

Laura ran over the menu to see what there was to tempt her appetite.

"Bring me some lobster," she said to the waiter.

"And a bottle of wine--Moet and Chandon white seal," broke in Brockton,
"_frappe_--you understand, and make it a rush order. I have to get away
in a few minutes."

Laura pursed her delicately chiseled lips together in a pout. She liked
to do that on every possible occasion, because, having practiced it at
home before the mirror, she thought it looked cunning.

"You're surely going to give yourself time to eat a bite, aren't you?"
she cried in affected dismay.

The broker looked at his watch.

"I must be in Boston early to-morrow morning. The express leaves the
Grand Central at 12:15. I've just time to drink a glass of wine and
sprint for the train. That's why I kept the taxi waiting outside. I
hate to go. I assure you I'd much rather sit here with you. But go I
must."

As far as his _amours_ were concerned, women of the Laura Murdock and
Elfie St. Clair type appealed strongly to the broker. Not only did he
enjoy their bohemianism and careless good-fellowship, but he entered
fully into the spirit of their way of living. He professed to
understand them and in a measure to sympathize with them. Entirely
without humbug or cant, he recognized that they had their own place in
the social game. They were outcasts, if you will, but interesting and
amusing outcasts. He rather liked the looseness of living which does
not quite reach the disreputable. Behind all this, however, was a high
sense of honor. He detested and despised the average stage-door Johnny,
and he loathed the type of man who seeks to take young girls out of
theatrical companies for their ruin. Otherwise he had no objection to
his women friends being as wise as himself. When they entered into an
agreement with him there was no deception. In the first place, he
wanted to like them; in the second place he wanted them to like him.
His iron-gray hair, contrasting with their youth, not only made him
look like their father, but his manner towards them was distinctly
paternal. He insisted also on their financial arrangements, being kept
on a strictly business basis. The amount of the living expenses was
fixed at a defi