"Morals or the want of them do not, I take it, enter into the question,"
Harleston responded. "Cleverness is quite apart from morals."
"You have not named the wonderful one," Clarke reminded him.
"And I won't now. Rochester's impertinent question forbids introducing
her to this company. Moreover," as he drew out his watch, "it is
half-after-twelve of a fine spring night, and, unless we wish to be
turned out of the Club, we would better be going homeward or elsewhere.
Who's for a walk up the avenue?"
"I am--as far as Dupont Circle," said Clarke.
"All hands?" Harleston inquired.
"It's too late for exercise," Rochester declined; "and our way lies
athwart your path."
"I don't think you make good company, anyway, with your questions and
your athwarts," Harleston retorted amiably, as Clarke and he moved off.
"Who is your clever woman?" asked Clarke.
"Curious?" Harleston smiled.
"Naturally--it's not in you to give praise undeserved."
"I'm not sure it is praise, Clarke; it depends on one's point of view.
However, the lady in question bears several names which she uses as
expediency or her notion suits her. Her maiden name was Madeline
Cuthbert. She married a Colonel Spencer of Ours; he divorced her, after
she had eloped with a rich young lieutenant of his regiment.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25