I don't mind telling you,
but all a good-looking girl needs is a chance before the
public--there's plenty of rich fools in the world yet. I've caught on
to a few things in the last five years. It pays better to be Celeste
La Rue than it ever did to be Sadie Capley. Do you get me?"
Miss Donovan nodded. Her acquaintance with New York fast life supplied
all necessary details, and it was quite evident this girl had no sense
of shame. Instead she was rather proud of the success she had achieved.
"I imagine you are right," she admitted pleasantly. "So you found a
backer? A mining man?"
"Not on your life. None of your wild west for me. As soon as some
business is straightened out here, it's back to Broadway."
"Who is it?" ventured the other cautiously. "Mr. Beaton?"
"Ned Beaton!" Miss La Rue's voice rose to a shriek. "Oh, Lord! I
should say not! Why that fellow never had fifty dollars of his own at
one time in his life. You know Beaton, don't you?"
"Well, hardly that. We have conversed at the table down-stairs."
"I suppose any sort of a man in a decent suit of clothes looks good
enough to talk to out here.
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