"All
this has taught me a lesson, dearest. I knew all along, and I know it
more than ever now, that it is you--you that I want. Just you! I don't
care if you don't play golf. I don't care----" He hesitated, then went on
manfully. "I don't care even if you play croquet, so long as you are
with me!"
For a moment her face showed rapture that made it almost angelic. She
uttered a low moan of ecstasy. She kissed him. Then she rose.
"Mortimer, look!"
"What at?"
"Me. Just look!"
The jigger which he had been polishing lay on a chair close by. She
took it up. From the bowl of golf-balls on the mantelpiece she selected
a brand new one. She placed it on the carpet. She addressed it. Then,
with a merry cry of "Fore!" she drove it hard and straight through the
glass of the china-cupboard.
"Good God!" cried Mortimer, astounded. It had been a bird of a shot.
She turned to him, her whole face alight with that beautiful smile.
"When I left you, Mortie," she said, "I had but one aim in life,
somehow to make myself worthy of you. I saw your advertisements in the
papers, and I longed to answer them, but I was not ready.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134