reed solemnly to stand by the
toss. Didn't we?"

"What did we agree?"

"That the winner should have the choice."

"Very well. I won, didn't I?"

"You certainly did."

"And I choose not to take the house," he declared triumphantly. "It's a
very nice house, but"--he shaded his eyes as he directed them upon the
proud-pied facade, blinking significantly--"I'd have to wear smoked
glasses if I lived in it, and they don't suit my style of beauty."

"You'd not get it now, young feller, if you was to go down on your knees
with a thousand dollars in each hand," asserted the offended Estate.

"See!" said the young man to the butterfly. "Fate decides for you."

"But what will you do?" she asked solicitously.

"Perhaps I can find some other place in the Square."

She held out her hand. "You've been very nice and helpful, but--I think
not. Good-bye."

He regarded the hand blankly. "Not--what?"

"Not here in this Square, if you don't mind."

"But where else is there?" he asked piteously. "You know yourself there
are countless thousands of homeless drifters floating around on this
teeming island in vans, with no place to land."

"Try Jersey. Or Brooklyn," was her hopeful suggestion.

"'And bade betwixt their shores to be
The unplumb'd, salt, estranging sea,'"

he quoted with dramatic intonation, adding helpfully: "Matthew Arnold.
Or is it Arnold Bennett? Anyway, think how far away those places are,"
he pleaded. "From you!" he concluded.

A little decided frown crept between her eyebrows. "I've accepted you as
a gentleman on trust," she began, when he broke in:

"Don't do it. It's a fearfully depressing thing to be reminded that
you're a gentleman on trust and expected to live up to it. Think how it
cramps one's style, not to mention limiting one's choice of real estate.
A gentleman may stake his future happiness and his hope of a home on the
toss of a coin, but he mustn't presume to want to see the other party to
the gamble again, even if she's the only thing in the whole sweep of his
horizon worth seeing. Is that fair? Where is Eternal Justice, I ask you,
when such things--"

"Oh, do stop!" she implored. "I don't think you're sane."

"No such claim is put forth on behalf of the accused. He confesses to
complete loss of mental equilibrium since--let me see--since 11.15 A.M."

Here the Mordaunt Estate, who had been doing some shrewd thinking on his
own behalf, interposed.

"I'd rather rent to two than