" CHAPTER V. We can love on a snow cornice, we can love over a pail of whitewash. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. He felt her relaxation and let go of her wrists. Ruth loved him. Figg?" asked Gay. . " "Do girls have puppy-love?" "Land sakes, yes! On the average they are worse than the boys. You may not know it, but it's easier to find a guy that's gone far than it is when he lays dogo in little old New York.
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