“That’s manly of you, Gordon. And—well, I’m going to tell you exactly what I told your father—if you prove the stuff that’s latent in you, you stand as good a chance of winning my friendship permanently—and maybe more—as any man I know now or ever will know. In fact, you’ve got a bit of advantage, because I know you will have overcome more handicaps.” “Madge, is there any one else who——” “Who loves me? I don’t know, Gordon. I have many men friends and go about much.” “Is there any one whom you love? It’s a rotten thing to ask but—hang it all, I’m—jealous!” What was the little heart-pinch that came to Madeline then? Why should her thoughts flee secretly to some torn pieces of paper in an envelope in her bottom dresser drawer? “Not enough to marry, Gordon. That’s as far as I want to be interrogated.” “Madge! Have I got a chance?” The girl smiled, a wonderful smile. “All the chance in the world, Gordon. Go through with this thing and you’ll prove yourself a man!” “Madge! There never was a woman like you. There’ll never be another.” “Fiddlesticks! The world is filled with women like myself!” “Then they don’t move on the strata where the fellows who need them most can contact them.” Madelaine left the contention open. She was thinking about Gordon’s language. He had always talked like a street gamin despite his home culture. Now his vocabulary was more refined, far more careful. It was an hour before he arose to go. “Madge,” he said at the door, “you’re never going to practice, even if you graduate from medical school.” “Why not, Gordon? What makes you think so?” She was amused. “There are too many men who need you in a slightly different capacity than doling out pills!” She was glad when the door had closed on him that he had not said, “Because I want you and intend to marry you myself!” Poor Gordon! Perhaps he too had been more sinned against than sinning. Madelaine went back to her chair and remained for a long time in thought. “I can’t let myself drift into it—I can’t. I can’t! Oh, dear, where can I go, what can I do, to escape it? Will I marry him after all? Will his persistence win in the end?” Tears filmed her eyes. She had felt that strange pinch in her heart again, remembering the envelope in the drawer. “I want a man who has won out in spite of everything!” she cried. “Never mind how Gordon wins out, he will not have won out over enough!” She wondered while dressing for dinner that night if Nathaniel Forge had come through that jail scrape “with a clean bill of health.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER IV POOR SOW’S EAR I