"
"I believe you have had more than your share already,"
Janet cried.
"Oh no! a little, only a little. Hardly anything
here--people fall in love in England in such a mathematical
way. But there is a callow artist on the _Age_, and
Golightly Ticke has become quite mad lately, and Solomon
--I mean Mr. Rattray--will propose next week--he thinks
I won't dare to refuse the sub-editor. How I shall laugh
at him! Afterward, if he gives me any trouble, I shall
threaten to write up the interview for the _Pictorial
News_. On the whole though, I dare say I'd better not
suggest such a thing; he would want it for the _Age_.
He is equal to any personal sacrifice for the _Age_."
"Is, that all?" asked Janet, turning away her head.
"You are thinking of John Kendal! Ah, there it becomes
exciting. From what you see, Janetta _mia_, what should
you _think?_ Myself, I don't quite know. Don't you find
him rather--a good deal--interested?"
Janet had an impulse of thankfulness for the growing
darkness. "I--I see him so seldom!" she said. Oh, it was
the last time, the very last time that she would ever
let Elfrida talk like this.
"Well, I think so," Elfrida went on coolly. "He fancies
he finds me curious, original, a type--just now.
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