He stood beside the doorway, waiting for her to pass out. His face
expressed nothing. "Let's go down. I'm hungry. We were talking about it
this afternoon."
"You and Jo!"
"Josephine and I."
"And it's all right?"
"Why not?"
"You fooled her?"
"I don't stoop to that sort of thing."
"No, indeed," she laughed. "You rise to heights of deception that would
make anyone else giddy. Oh, I'd give anything to have heard."
"There's nothing to deceive about," said he.
She shook her head. "You can't put it over me, Fred. You've never before
made a fool of yourself about a woman. I'd like to see her. I suppose
I'd be amazed. I've observed that the women who do the most
extraordinary things with men are the most ordinary sort of women."
"Not to the men," said he bitterly. "Not while they're doing it."
"Does _she_ seem extraordinary to _you_ still?"
He thrust his hands deep in his pockets. "What you heard is true. I'm
letting everything slide--work--career--everything. I think of nothing
else. Ursula, I'm mad about her--mad!"
She threw back her head, looked at him admiringly. Never had she so
utterly worshiped this wonderful, powerful brother of hers. He was in
love--really--madly in love--at last. So he was perfect! "How long do
you think it will hold, Fred?" she said, all sympathy.
"God knows!"
"Yet--caring for her you can go on and marry another woman!"
He looked at his sister cynically. "You wouldn't have me marry _her_,
would you?"
"Of course not," protested she hastily. Her passion for romance did not
carry her to that idiocy. "You couldn't. She's a sort of working
girl--isn't she?--anyhow, that class. No, you couldn't marry her. But
how can you marry another woman?"
"How could I give up Josephine?--and give her up probably to Bob
Culver?"