"I shouldn't care to
live in this house; and you----"
"I knew you never liked my furnishings!"
"----and you, I am sure, would never care to live in any other."
"I shall stay where I am," she declared. "Shall you stay where you are?"
she asked keenly.
"Perhaps not."
"Confess that housekeeping on your own account is less attractive than it
once was."
"I do. Confess that you, with all your outfit and all your goings-on, never
quite--never quite--succeeded in..."
Medora shrugged. "The young, at best, only tolerate us. We are but the
platform they dance on,--the ladder they climb by."
"After all, he was a 'charming' chap. Your own word, you know."
"Yet scarcely worth the to-do we made over him," said Medora, willing to
save her face.
Randolph shrugged in turn, and threw out his hands in a gesture which she
had never known him to employ before.
"Worth the to-do? Who is?"
End of Project Gutenberg's Bertram Cope's Year, by Henry Blake Fuller
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BERTRAM COPE'S YEAR ***
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