314
Bertram Cope's Year
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?"
The End