"I can see you are still hopeless," he owned. "But so long as you are
hopeless for other men I can endure it, I suppose. I really meant not to
speak again for a long time, as I promised you. But the thought of that
embryo plutocrat making after you, as he has after so many girls--"
"How many girls, I wonder?" queried Roberta quite carelessly. "Do you
happen to know? Has his fame spread so far?"
"I know nothing about him, of course, except that he's a gay young
spendthrift. It goes without saying that he's made love to every pretty
face, for that kind invariably do."
"If it goes without saying, why say it?--particularly as you don't know
it. I dare say he has--what serious harm? I presume it's quite as likely
they've run after him. I'm sure it's a matter of no concern to me, for I
know him very little and am likely to know him much less now that he
doesn't come to work with Uncle Calvin any more. Let's go back, Mr.
Westcott. I came out to look for pussy-willows, not for
Robby-will-you's!"
With which piece of audacity she dismissed the subject. It certainly was
not a subject which harmonized well with that of Midsummer Day, and the
thought of Midsummer Day, quickened into active life by the unexpected
sight of the person who had made a certain preposterous prophecy
concerning it, was a thought which was refusing to down.
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