“Certainly not,” replied the girl emphatically.  “Then he used to come nearly every day.  One time I—­I think he had been—­drinking.”

“He was—­drunk?” exclaimed Fanny in surprise.

“Oh, no!  Not that,” said Virginia quickly, “but I could see he had been drinking.”

“Just lit up a bit to show that he’s human, eh?” said Jimmie with a grin.

Paying no attention to the interruption, Virginia went on: 

“I didn’t like him quite so much after that.  He asked me again—­”

“And you wouldn’t?” interrupted Fanny.

“Of course not!”

Jimmie chuckled.  Crossing his legs and striking the ashes from his cigar, he said: 

“Say, but that was foxy!”

“What was?” demanded Virginia quickly.

“Making him think that he having money made no difference.”

“It didn’t.”

“Sure it didn’t,” he laughed.  “That was the way to play it.”

“What do you mean?” cried the girl indignantly.  “I wasn’t ‘playing’ anything or anybody.”

Paying no heed to the frantic signs which Fanny was making for him to keep silent, the shipping clerk went on: 

“Why not?  It’s all in the game.”

Ignoring him, Virginia continued: 

“He finally asked me to dine with him here and to bring you and Jim.  I had told him about your being engaged.”

The young man nodded approvingly.  With a patronizing air he said: 

“I’m beginning to think this fellow Stafford’s on the level.  He might even want to marry you.”

Virginia flushed scarlet.  Confusedly she exclaimed: 

“Don’t be absurd!”

“But if he did,” insisted Fanny, “would you marry him?”

Jimmie laughed loudly: 

“Would she!” he chuckled.  “Say, Fanny, are you crazy?”

Virginia shook her head.  Slowly she said: 

“I don’t know that I would.”

“What!” exclaimed the clerk, half starting from his chair.  “Do you mean to say that if any man as rich as Stafford was to ask you on the level to be his wife that you wouldn’t jump at the chance?”

Quite unmoved by his indignant outburst, the girl replied calmly: 

“I’ve seen men who are twice as rich as Mr. Stafford that I wouldn’t marry if they gave me half their money as a wedding present.”

The shipping clerk made a grimace, but reluctantly nodded approval.  Carelessly he said: 

“In a way I can’t say that I blame you.  I’ve seen pictures of a lot of these financiers and, believe me, they are the rummiest looking bunch I ever set eyes on!  But I didn’t think Stafford was that kind.”

“I thought he was rather distinguished looking,” interrupted Fanny.

“He is,” said Virginia quickly.  “What’s more—­he’s a gentleman.”

Jimmie rose and walking over to where Virginia was sitting, stood looking at her, his hands in his pockets.  Almost sarcastically he asked: