rolific. Now that she knows three is the limit
she has sent the other six to the country. But that isn't what I
started on. She called up this morning and gave me hell because I said
yesterday that she had served a _recherche_ repast at some function
they pulled off the other night. 'See here, young woman,' she says, 'I
want you to understand there's none of that _recherche_ stuff on my
table. Nothing short of champagne, every drop of it.' I just yelled."

"Why didn't you print a retraction?"

"I don't know."

"I do. It's because, Miss Roberta, beneath your cynicism and your
assumption of masculinity, you are as sympathetic as a young mother.
It would be mean to put over anything like that, and you just can't do
it."

"Nonsense. You see what I print at times--"

"Bert," he said suddenly, "why don't you get married?"

"Who, me?" Then she laughed. "I guess I'm too sympathetic. It would
be mean to put over anything like that on a man, and a girl wouldn't
have me."

"Well, then, why don't you buy some real estate?" he continued,
jocularly. "Every man should have some dissipation--something to make
him forget his other troubles."

"A little late in the meal for that word, isn't it?"

He stared a moment, and then sprang to his feet. "I beg your pardon.
What will you drink?"

"What you drink."

"But I drink coffee."

"So do I. . . I may be mannish, Dave, but I don't think I'm a fool. I
can understand a man drinking, but not a woman. It's too
dangerous. . . . But I'll smoke a cigarette.

"Now, as for real estate. The fact is, I _have_ invested."

A look came into his face which she did not understand. "With whom?"
he demanded, almost peremptorily.

"With Conward & Elden," she answered, and the roguishness of her voice
suggested that her despised femininity lay not far from the surface.
"Were you about to be jealous?"

"Why didn't you come to me?" She realized that he was in deep earnest.

"I did," she answered, candidly. "At least, I asked for you, but you
were out of town, so Conward took me in hand, and I followed his
advice."

"Do you trust Conward?" he demanded almost fiercely.

"Well, he's good enough to be your partner, isn't he?"

The thrust hurt more than she knew. He had his poise again.

"Real estate is the only subject I would trust him on," she continued.
"I must say, Dave, that for a shrewd business man you are awfully dense
about Conward."

He remained silent for