go back, but that brief period of
self-abnegation has shown to her most clearly the rottenness of the
other sort of living. There are enough sentimentality and emotion in
her character to make it impossible for her to accept this manner of
existence as_ ELFIE _does. Hers is not a nature of careless candour,
but of dreamy ideals and better living, warped, handicapped,
disillusioned, and destroyed by a weakness that finds its principal
force in vanity._ WILL _resumes his newspaper in a more attentive way.
The girl looks at him and expresses in pantomime, by the slightest
gesture or shrug of the shoulders, her growing distaste for him and
his way of living. In the meantime_ WILL _is reading the paper rather
carefully. He stops suddenly and then looks at his watch._

LAURA. What time is it?

WILL. After ten.

LAURA. Oh.

WILL _at this moment particularly reads some part of the paper, turns
to her with a keen glance of suspicion and inquiry, and then for a
very short moment evidently settles in his mind a cross-examination.
He has read in this paper a despatch from Chicago, which speaks
of_ JOHN MADISON _having arrived there as a representative of a big
Western mining syndicate which is going to open large operations in
the Nevada gold-fields, and representing_ MR. MADISON _as being on his
way to New York with sufficient capital to enlist more, and showing
him to be now a man of means. The attitude of_ LAURA _and the
coincidence of the despatch bring back to_ WILL _the scene in Denver,
and later in New York, and with that subtle intuition of the man of
the world he connects the two._

WILL. I don't suppose, Laura, that you'd be interested now in knowing
anything about that young fellow out in Colorado? What was his
name--Madison?

LAURA. Do you know anything?

WILL. No, nothing particularly. I've been rather curious to know how
he came out. He was a pretty fresh young man and did an awful lot of
talking. I wonder how he's doing and how he's getting along. I don't
suppose by any chance you have ever heard from him?

LAURA. No, no; I've never heard. [_Crosses to bureau._

WILL. I presume he never replied to that letter you wrote?

LAURA. No.

WILL. It would be rather queer, eh, if this young fellow should
[_Looks at paper._] happen to come across a lot of money--not that I
think he ever could, but it would be funny, wouldn't it?

LAURA. Yes, yes; it would be unexpected. I hope he does. It might make
him happy.