“Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. “Well?” he asked her tersely. If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, “how did you get to know Mr. She watched for five minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest, past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign. Poor little one. There must be something we can do. . “No. He said nothing, even though it was not raining. I don’t know that I understand altogether. Leave the rest to me. No matter what they do, always someone to bolster them up, to lend them money, and to coddle them. “Not really.
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