quite cut me off without a
dollar. The money made all the difference with you, Madge. Morton was
wealthy. I had nothing in the world, and no particular prospects. You
married Morton."

"Well, a girl has to look out for herself in these days."

"But you pretended that you loved me."

"I did," she declared earnestly. "I loved you then, Greg, and I've loved
you ever since."

Again he shrugged his shoulders, and a low laugh came from his lips.

"You don't believe me!" she exclaimed. "If you only knew how much it
hurt me to see you smiling into the eyes of that Spanish girl! Oh, I
longed to choke her!"

"How do you think I felt when you dropped me and became George Morton's
wife?"

"I'd never done that had you been sensible. Had you promised your father
that you'd give up socialism, I'd have clung to you through everything,
Gregory. You know socialism is so ridiculous! And socialists are the
skuff and rabble of humanity. All the cranks and crackbrains are
socialists."

"Every great thinker since the world began has been called a crank. I
admit that there are many undesirable persons allied with the
socialists, but because of that the great principles of the party cannot
be condemned. The theory of socialism is founded on the rock of justice
and----"

"Oh, I've heard all that before, Gregory. Don't talk it any more. How
can you blame me if I did not wish to marry a penniless man absolutely
without prospects?"

"I don't blame you," he said. "At the same time, Madge, I hate to think
that you married George Morton simply for his money. I hate to think you
deceived him in such a manner."

"Oh, George was a good fellow, and money is an absolute necessity,
Gregory. Had I possessed a fortune, it would have been different. The
mere fact that your father had cut you off would have made no difference
to me then. It makes no difference to me now."

"But it's too late now, Madge."

"Oh, no, it isn't too late."

He drew back from her, and the look she saw in his eyes brought a sudden
flush to her cheeks.

"You think me bold. You think me forward," she hastily said. "Long ago
you made me confess that I loved you. Do you think I forgot you? Oh,
no; there's been never a day since we parted that I've not longed to see
you again."

In spite of her hand on his arm, he rose to his feet.

"This won't do, Madge," he said calmly. "You're a married woman. What if
your husband should hear you speaking such words to me?"

Sh