furs," she said, in the pause following the collapse of
stenography.

That seemed to mean more. "Yes, aren't they lovely?" responded Ann, with
happy enthusiasm. "They were my Christmas present--from Wayne."

The way Ann said Wayne--in the old days she had never said it at all--led
instantly, though without her knowing by what path, to that strange fear
of hers in finding Ann so free from fear.

Ann was blushing a little: the "Wayne" had slipped out so easily, and so
prettily. "He thought I needed them. It's often so cold here, you know."

"Why certainly one needs furs," said Katie firmly, as if there could be
no question as to _that_.

Katie's great refuge was activity. She got up and began taking some
dresses from her trunk.

Then, just to show herself that she was not afraid, that there was
nothing to be afraid about, she asked lightly: "What in the world brings
Wayne up to New York so much?"

Ann was affectionately stroking her muff. She looked up at Katie shyly,
but with a warm little smile. There was a pause which seemed to hover
over it before she said softly: "Why, Katie, I think perhaps I bring him
up to New York."

Everything in Katie seemed to tighten--close up. She gave her most
cobwebby dress a perilous shake and said in flat voice: "Wayne's very
kind, I'm sure."

Ann did not reply; she was still stroking her muff; that smile which
hovered tenderly over something had not died on her lips. It made her
mouth, her whole face, softly lovely. It did something else. Made it
difficult for Katie to go on pretending with herself.

Though she made a last stand. It was a dreadful state of affairs, she
told herself, if Ann had been so absurd as to fall in love with
Wayne--_Wayne_--just because he had been kind in helping her get a start.

She followed that desperately. "Oh yes, Wayne's really very kind at
heart. And then of course he's always been especially interested in you,
because of me."

Ann looked up at her. The look kept deepening, sank far down beneath
Katie's shallow pretense.

"Well, Katie," Ann began, with the gentle dignity of one whom life has
taken into the fold, "as long as we seem into this, I'd rather go on.
Wayne said I was to do just as I liked about telling you. Just as it
happened to come up. But I think you ought to know he is not interested
in just the way you think." She paused before it, then said softly, with
a tremulous pride: "He cares for me, Katie--and wants to marry me."