I understand that for some reason you can't talk about----"
"Then why do you continue to press me?" said she, a little coldly.
He accepted the rebuke with a bow. "Nevertheless," said he,
with raillery to carry off his persistence, "I shall get you.
If not sooner, then when the specter of an obscure--perhaps
poor--old age begins to agitate the rich hangings of youth's
banquet hall."
"That'll be a good many years yet," mocked she. And from her
lovely young face flashed the radiant defiance of her perfect
youth and health.
"Years that pass quickly," retorted he, unmoved.
She was still radiant, still smiling, but once more she was
seeing the hideous old women of the tenements. Into her
nostrils stole the stench of the foul den in which she had
slept with Mrs. Tucker and Mrs. Reardon--and she was hearing
the hunchback of the dive playing for the drunken dancing old
cronies, with their tin cups of whiskey.
No danger of that now? How little she was saving of her
salary from Palmer! She could not "work" men--she simply
could not. She would never put by enough to be independent
and every day her tastes for luxury had firmer hold upon her.
No danger? As much danger as ever--a danger postponed but
certain to threaten some day--and then, a fall from a greater
height--a certain fall. She was hearing the battered,
shattered piano of the dive.
"For pity's sake Mrs.
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