"
"How wonderful," she said, "for you to feel that way, but--"
"Hester," he said, more and more the big boy, and his big blond head
nearing hers, "I don't care about anything that's past; I only know
that, for me, you are the--"
"Gerald," she said, "for God's sake!"
"I'm a two hundred-a-month man now, Hester. I want to build you the
prettiest, the whitest little house in this town. Out in the Briarwood
section. I'll make them kowtow to you, Hester; I--"
"Why," she said, slowly, and looking at him with a certain sadness, "you
couldn't keep me in stockings, Gerald! The aigrettes on this hat cost
more than one month of your salary."
"Good God!" he said.
"You're a dear, sweet boy just the same; but you remember what I told
you about my crepe-de-Chine soul."
"Just the same, I love you best in those crispy white shirt waists you
used to wear and the little blue suits and sailor hats. You remember
that day at Finleys' picnic, Hester, that day, dear, that you--you--"
"You dear boy!"
"But it--your mistake--it--it's all over.
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