Mason were accessories sketched casually.

Even while her face bubbled with mirth at his story of the improvised
tango that had wrecked the Sea Siren, the quick young eyes of the girl
were taking in the compelling devil-may-care charm of Lindsay.
Battered though he was, the splendid vigor of the man still showed in a
certain tigerish litheness that sore, stiff muscles could not conceal.
No young Greek god's head could have risen more superbly from the
brick-tanned column of his neck than did this bronzed one.

"I gather that Mr. Lindsay of Arizona was among those present,"
Beatrice said, smiling.

"I was givin' the dance," he agreed, and his gay eyes met hers.

Since she was a woman, one phase of his story needed expansion for Miss
Whitford. She made her comment carelessly while she adjusted the
mileage on the speedometer.

"Queer you happened to meet some one you knew down there. You did say
you knew the girl, didn't you?"

"We were on the same train out of Denver. I got acquainted with her."

Miss Whitford asked no more questions. But Clay could not quite let
the matter stand so. He wanted her to justify him in her mind for what
he had done. Before he knew it he had told her the story of Kitty
Mason and Durand.

Nor did this draw any criticism of approval or the reverse.

"I couldn't let him hypnotize that little girl from the country, could
I?" he asked.

"I suppose not." Her whole face began to bubble with laughter in the
way he liked so well. "But you'll be a busy knight errant if you
undertake to right the wrongs of every girl you meet in New York." A
dimple flashed near the corner of her mouth. "Of course she's pretty."

"Well, yes. She is right pretty."

"Describe her to me."

He made a lame attempt. Out of his tangled sentences she picked on
some fragments. ". . . blooms like a cherokee rose . . . soft like a
kitten."

"I'm glad she's so charming. That excuses any indiscretion," the girl
said with a gleam of friendly malice. "There's no fun in rescuing the
plain ones, is there?"

"They don't most usually need so much rescuin'," Clay admitted.

"Don't you think it possible that you rescued her out of a job?"

The young man nodded his head ruefully. "That's exactly what I did.
After all her trouble gettin' one I've thrown her out again. I'm a
sure-enough fathead."

"You've been down to find out?" she asked with a sidelong tilt of her
quick eyes.

"Yes. I went down this m