arked her wonder at the silken
beauty of Beatrice's boudoir.

So Gaylord travelled his own peculiar gait, with his married sister
occasionally sending him checks; as busy as a kitten with a ball of
yarn in making everyone tolerate though loathing him. When he visited
Steve's office in the first flush of Steve's success, to ask the
thousandth favour from him, and spied Trudy Burrows in all her
lemon-kid booted, pink-chiffon waisted, red-haired loveliness--as
virile and bewitching as any one Gaylord's pale little mind could
picture--he proved himself a "true democrat," as he boasted at the
club, and offered her his hand in marriage in short order.

Having just despaired of winning a moneyed bride Gaylord chose
Truletta, reasoning that if she were a little nobody it would give
him the whiphand over her, since she would feel that to marry a
Vondeplosshe was no small triumph. Besides, a chic red-haired wife
who knew how to make the most of nothing and to smile, showing
thirty-two pearly teeth as cleverly as any dental ad, would not be a
bad asset among his men friends. Had the Vondeplosshe fortunes
remained intact and Gay met Trudy he would still have pressed his
attentions upon her, though they might not have taken the form of an
offer of marriage. Trudy's virile, magnetic personality would have
commanded this weakling's attention and admiration at any time and
in any circumstances--which is the way of things.

Very wisely Trudy kept the engagement somewhat of a secret. She
estimated that by being seen with Gay she might meet a not impoverished
and real man; and Gay--who still hoped for an heiress to fall madly in
love with him--was willing to let the matter be a mere understanding.
So this oversubscribed flirt and this underendowed young gentleman had
been waiting for nearly two years for something to live on in order
to be married or else two new affinities in order that they might
part amicably.

They did not speak until they were in the cafe, where it looked well
for Gaylord to be attentive and Trudy gracious.

Under the mask of a smile Trudy began: "I'm cross. You were gambling
again--yes, you were! Never mind how I know. I know!... I'll have
macaroni, ripe olives, and a cream puff."

"The same," Gay said, mournfully; adding: "Well, deary, I have to
live!"

"Why not work? I do. You sponge along and waste everyone's time. I'm
not getting any younger, and it's pretty rough to be in an office with
horrid people