"Well, what?" she asked, gently.
"You don't think he'd be the—the cheap kind it'd make a difference with, of course."
"Oh, no; he isn't cheap. It won't make any difference with him."
Adams suffered a profound sigh to escape him. "Well—I'm glad of that, anyway."
"The difference," she explained—"the difference was made without his hearing anything about Walter. He doesn't know about that yet."
"Well, what does he know about?"
"Only," she said, "about me."
"What you mean by that, Alice?" he asked, helplessly.
"Never mind," she said. "It's nothing beside the real trouble we're in—I'll tell you some time. You eat your eggs and toast; you can't keep going on just coffee."
"I can't eat any eggs and toast," he objected, rising. "I can't."
"Then wait till I can bring you something else."
"No," he said, irritably. "I won't do it! I don't want any dang food! And look here"—he spoke sharply to stop her, as she went toward the telephone—"I don't want any dang taxi, either! You look
