"Georgie"
very glad, of course, because I'm tired of being poor. One does get tired of it. The pleasure of being careful always about very little things palls in time, don't you find? Now, Georgie is poor and Diana Leigh has thrown him over, and I believe—I'm almost certain, Martin, that he—that he likes me still."
"What! Georgie?" I asked in amazed and unflattering disbelief.
"You are cruel." Her tone almost moved me to pity. "He was in love with Diana, but he has been in love with other girls, hasn't he, and he always gets over that, doesn't he?" Don't you think, Martin, that the quiet, steady affection which comes from sympathy, and friendship, and understanding, is a better thing to build a home and one's happiness on, then these wild, short love-fancies of Georgie's?"
Still I had no response ready. My feeling of compassion grew stronger.
"I am rich, Martin. I've more money than poor Georgie has lost. And I can't
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