Why, if he would just let Carrie see one such little incident as that of Thursday, it would settle the matter.

He ran on it thought, almost exulting, the while he laughed and chatted, and Drouet felt nothing.

He had no power of analyzing the glance and the atmosphere of a man like Hurstwood.

He stood and smiled and accepted the invitation while his friend examined him with the eye of a hawk.
The object of this peculiarly involved comedy was not thinking of either.

She was busy adjusting her thoughts and feelings to newer conditions, and was not in danger of suffering disturbing pangs from either quarter.
One evening Drouet found her dressing herself before that glass.
"Cad," said he, catching her, "I believe you're getting vain." "Nothing of the kind," she returned, smiling.
"Well, you're mighty pretty," he went on, slipping his arm around her.
"Put on that navy-blue dress of yours and I'll take you to the show." "Oh, I've promised Mrs.Hale to go with her to the Exposition to-night," she returned, apologetically.
"You did, eh ?" he said, studying the situation abstractedly.