I am in
mourning and it would interest me immensely."
He had dropped her arm and was staring at her.
"You are not afraid of me, then?" His voice was sulky but his eyes were
less hostile.
"Oh, not in the least. I fully appreciate that you merely wished to
humiliate me, not to be insulting, as some of these other men might have
been. My name is Mrs. Mortimer Dwight. I live on Ballinger Hill--do you
know it? That old house in the eucalyptus grove?"
"I know it, all right."
"Then you probably know, also, that I am not rich and never have been. My
husband is a struggling young business man."
"That cuts no ice. You train with that class, don't you? You're class
yourself, reek with it. You had rich ancestors or you wouldn't be what you
are now."
"Well, we can discuss that point another time. One of my friends is a
daughter of Judge Lawton--"
"Hand in glove with every rich grafter in 'Frisco."
Alexina shuddered. "Please say San Francisco. I am positive you never heard
a word against Judge Lawton's probity, nor that he ever rendered an unjust
decision."
"He's a wise old guy, all right. But it would be wastin' time tryin' to
make you understand why I have no use for him."
"Of course you would have no use for the husband of my other friend, Mrs.
Frank Bascom."
She fully expected that the young millionaire's name would be the final red
rag and that her escort would roar his opinion of him for the benefit of
all Fillmore Street.
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