"Georgie"
"This sort of thing," said he sorrowfully, "would have driven some chaps to the dogs. A woman doesn't quite know what she's doing when she plays fast and loose with a man. But I'm not narrow. I'm not such a selfish brute as to stand between you and happiness. You're free."
"Mr. Muggeridge!" Anne turned on him fiercely. "Won't you speak for me? I told you, didn't I, that I couldn't listen to you because I was engaged to Georgie—because I—I—"
Muggeridge grunted stoutly and cleared his throat. To look at he was not a poet's dream of love, but in spite of that Georgie turned, and glared at him with the hot eyes of a rival.
I don't know what Sandy would have tardily said in Anne's defence, but in the nick of time the Goddess Girl, standing at Georgie's side, suddenly drew nearer, and I alone saw a pretty, delicate hand steal out from hanging laces to comfort him. He turned quickly with a little gasp, and looked at her.
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