room."

"Not at all," says Mrs. Steele, real crisp and businesslike. "It will be
only for a moment, while Mr. Bolan states very briefly his exact purpose
in coming here."

Larry bows. "To see once more the girl he could not forget," says he.

"Humph!" says she, curlin' her upper lip. "Very pretty, I suppose. But
let me assure you that foolish young person ceased to exist several
years ago."

"She lives for me--here," says Larry, placin' one hand on his left vest
pocket.

Mrs. Steele indulges in a thin little cold-storage laugh that sounds
almost as pleasant as tappin' a gas pipe. "What a sudden revival of an
old, worn-out affection!" says she. "When did you first hear I was a
widow?"

"Less than an hour ago," says Larry.

"Did they say I was rich, or poor?" she goes on sarcastic.

"Katie!" says he gaspy. "Surely you--you can't think----"

"It's what I ask them all," says she, "domestic and imported. Naturally
I am a little suspicious when they declare passionate love at the first
or second meeting; for, in spite of what my maids tell me, my mirror
insists that I'm not ravishingly beautiful. So I've begun to suspect
that perhaps my money may be the attraction. And I'm not in the market
for a husband, you know."

"Bing-g-g!" says I under my breath.

As for Larry Bolan, it leaves him with his chin down. For, after all, he
ain't one of your walrus-hided gents. As a matter of fact, he's as
sensitive as they come, and she couldn't have handed it out rougher.

"My dear lady," says he, "you are pleased to be cruel. Perhaps, though,
it's only my due. I admit that I'm only a poor pensioner posing as a
gentleman. But within a month I shall be on my way to bury myself on the
other side of the world. Meanwhile, I see you pass. Could I help wanting
a few kind words of yours to take with me?"

"If that is really all, Mr. Bolan," says she, "I would advise you to
outlive your nonsense, as I've outlived mine. Try paying your tailor
with kind words."

"Katie," says he, with a sob in his voice, "you--you've broken the heart
of me. Come, McCabe, we will go."

She stands watchin' us, smilin' cynical, until we're almost through the
door; and then--well, it's a sigh that comes out explosive. She starts
as if she meant to dash after us, and then stops with her arms out.

"Larry!" says she, almost in a whisper.

It pulls him up, and he stares at her a minute over his shoulder. "It's
no use, Katie," says he. "What's turned y