"These special diversions of the inner circle do not become familiar
to the common public."
"Sometimes," continued the girl, acknowledging his confession of
error by a slight bow, "I have thought that if I ever should love a
man it would be one of lowly station. One who is a worker and not
a drone. But, doubtless, the claims of caste and wealth will prove
stronger than my inclination. Just now I am besieged by two. One is
a Grand Duke of a German principality. I think he has, or has had,
a wife, somewhere, driven mad by his intemperance and cruelty. The
other is an English Marquis, so cold and mercenary that I even prefer
the diabolism of the Duke. What is it that impels me to tell you
these things, Mr. Packenstacker?
"Parkenstacker," breathed the young man. "Indeed, you cannot know how
much I appreciate your confidences."
The girl contemplated him with the calm, impersonal regard that
befitted the difference in their stations.
"What is your line of business, Mr. Parkenstacker?" she asked.
"A very humble one. But I hope to rise in the world. Were you
really in earnest when you said that you could love a man of lowly
position?"
"Indeed I was. But I said 'might.' There is the Grand Duke and the
Marquis, you know. Yes; no calling could be too humble were the man
what I would wish him to be."
"I work," declared Mr. Parkenstacker, "in a restaurant."
The girl shrank slightly.
"Not as a waiter?" she said, a little imploringly.
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