As she came back to reality, she met
Marston's curiously courteous glance with a bit of a shrug.
"Pardon my momentary abstraction," she said softly; "I was pursuing a
train of thought--"
"And you didn't overtake it," he remarked.
"I can never overtake it. I haven't the requisite speed. Did you ever
miss your two greatest opportunities, Marston?"
"I've missed my greatest," Marston replied instantly. "Oh--it was out of
my class, so I never started."
"It may have been a mistake, my friend," she observed; "one never can
tell until he's tried it--and failed. I mightn't have missed had I gone
on another schedule. However, the past is to profit by, and to forget
if we can't remember it pleasantly. So let us return to the business in
hand, Marston; it's a rattling business and a fascinating, and at it you
and I are not to be altogether despised," throwing him a bewitching
smile.
"Don't!" he exclaimed. "I'm not stone."
"Forgive me, my friend!" putting out her hand to him.
Marston simply bowed, "I think it wiser to refrain," he said gently, and
bowed again. "By all means let us to the business in hand."
He understood her nature better than she thought. The sympathy in her
was, for the moment, real enough, but it was only for the moment; the
love of admiration was the controlling note--what she sought and what
she played for.
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