She should have a cause; but a cause to a woman now-a-days means 'too little of pleasure, too much of pain,' for others." "What was your real cause, Windlehurst?
You had one, I suppose, for you've never had a fall." "My cause?
You ask that?
Behold the barren figtree! A lifetime in my country's service, and you who have driven me home from the House in your own brougham, and told me that you understood--oh, Betty!" She laughed.

"You'll say something funny as you're dying, Windlehurst." "Perhaps.

But it will be funny to know that presently I'll have a secret that none of you know, who watch me 'launch my pinnace into the dark.' But causes?
There are hundreds, and all worth while.

I've come here to-night for a cause--no, don't start, it's not you, Betty, though you are worth any sacrifice.

I've come here to-night to see a modern Paladin, a real crusader: "'Then felt I like some watcher of the skies, When a new planet swims into his ken.'" "Yes, that's poetry, Windlehurst, and you know I love it-I've always kept yours.