The young man flushed to the roots of his fair hair, his teeth meeting firmly.

“There is no ‘good angel’ of the Gayety—­the very atmosphere of that place would soil an angel’s wing,” he exclaimed hotly.  “Besides, you are not driven by necessity to any such choice.  There is another way out.  As you gently suggested, I am a mining engineer possessing a bank account at Denver.  I will most gladly draw a sight draft to-morrow, and pay your expenses back to that city, if you will only accept my offer.  Is this fair?”

“Perfectly so; yet supposing I refuse?”

“And deliberately choose the Gayety instead?”

“Yes, and deliberately choose the Gayety instead—­what then?”

She asked the momentous question calmly enough, her mouth rigid, her eyes challenging him to speak the whole truth.  He moistened his dry lips, realizing that he was being forced into an apparently brutal bluntness he had sincerely hoped to avoid.

“Then,” he replied, with quiet impressiveness, “I fear such deliberate action would forfeit my respect.”

She went instantly white before the blow of these unexpected words, her fingers clasping the door, her eyes as full of physical pain as if he had struck her with clinched hand.

“Forfeit your respect!” she echoed, the slender figure quivering, the voice tremulous.  “Rather should I forever forfeit my own, were I to accept your proffer of money.”  Her form straightened, a slight tinge of color rising to the cheeks.  “You totally mistake my character.  I have never been accustomed to listening to such words, Mr. Winston, nor do I now believe I merit them.  I choose to earn my own living, and I retain my own self-respect, even although while doing this I am unfortunate enough to forfeit yours.”

“But, Miss Norvell, do you realize what the Gayety is?”

“Not being deprived of all my natural powers of observation, I most certainly believe I do—­we were there together last evening.”

She puzzled, confused him, outwardly appearing to trifle with those matters which seemed to his mind most gravely serious.  Yet, his was a dogged resolution that would not easily confess defeat.

“Miss Norvell,” he began firmly, and in the depth of his earnestness he touched her hand where it yet clung to the door, “I may, indeed, be presuming upon an exceedingly brief friendship, but my sole excuse must be the very serious interest I feel in you, especially in your undoubted ability and future as an actress.  It is always a great misfortune for any man to repose trust and confidence in the character of a woman, and then suddenly awaken to discover himself deceived.  Under these circumstances I should be unworthy of friendship did I fail in plain speaking.  To me, your reckless acceptance of this chance engagement at the Gayety seems inexpressibly degrading; it is a lowering of every ideal with which my imagination has heretofore invested your character.