“You’re doing a lot better! I begin to feel more hopeful about you. You really could be a great consolation to me if--if you weren’t so busy!” “I really did appreciate your invitation. I’ll be around very soon.” After all, he decided, she was only flirting with him; her confidences were only a means of awakening his interest, stirring his sympathy. She had probably never loved Shepherd, but she respected his high-mindedness and really wanted to help him. The depression to which she confessed was only the common ennui of her class and type; she needed occupation, doubtless children would solve her problem to some extent. Her life ran too smooth a course, and life was not meant to be like that.... He was impatient to leave, but Mrs. Torrence and Henderson had started a phonograph and were dancing in the hall. Constance seemed unmindful of the noise they were making. “Shall we join in that romp?” asked Bruce. “Thanks, no--if you don’t mind! I suppose it’s really time to run along. May I fix a drink for you? It’s too bad to go away and leave all that whisky!” The music stopped in the midst of a jazzy saxophone wail and Mrs. Torrence and Henderson were heard noisily greeting several persons who had just come in. “It’s Leila,” said Constance, rising and glancing at the clock. “She has no business being here at this time of day.” “Hello, Connie! Got a beau?” Leila peered into the room, struck her hands together and called over her shoulder: “Come in, lads! See what’s here! Red liquor as I live and breathe! Oh, Mr. What’s-your-name----” “Mr. Storrs,” Constance supplied. “Oh, of course! Mr. Storrs--Mr. Thomas and Mr. Whitford!” Bruce had heard much of Whitford at the University Club, where he was one of the most popular members. He had won fame as an athlete in college and was a polo player of repute. A cosmopolitan by nature, he had traveled extensively and in the Great War had won honorable distinction. Having inherited money he was able to follow his own bent. It was whispered that he entertained literary ambitions. He was one of the chief luminaries of the Dramatic Club, coached the players and had produced several one-act plays of his own that had the flavor of reality. He was of medium height and looked the soldier and athlete. Women had done much to spoil him, but in spite of his preoccupation with society, men continued to like George, who was a thoroughly good fellow and a clean sportsman. Whitford entered at once into a colloquy with Constance. Thomas, having expressed his pleasure at meeting Bruce, was explaining to Mrs. Torrence how he and Whitford had met Leila downtown. “Liar!” exclaimed Leila, who was pouring herself a drink. “You did nothing of the kind. We met at the Burtons’ and Nellie gave us a little drink--just a tweeney, stingy little drink.”