Marilyn had not been in New York but a week before she met Opal. She
was waiting to cross Fifth Avenue, and someone leaned out of a big
limousine that paused for the congestion in traffic and cried: "Why, if that isn't Miss Severn from Sabbath Valley. Get in please, I
want to see you."

And Lynn, much against her will, was persuaded to get in, more because
she was holding up traffic than because the woman in the limousine
insisted: "I'll take you where you want to go," she said in answer to Lynn's
protests, and they rolled away up the great avenue with the moving
throng.

"I'm dying to know what it is you're making Laurie Shafton do," said
Opal eagerly, "I never saw him so much interested in anything in my
life. Or is it you he's interested in. Why, he can't talk of anything
else, and he's almost stopped going to the Club or any of the house
parties. Everybody thinks he's perfectly crazy. He won't drink any more
either. He's made himself quite notorious. I believe I heard
some one say the other day they hadn't even seen him smoking for a
whole week. You certainly are a wonder."

"You're quite mistaken," said Lynn, much amused, "I had nothing to do
with Mr. Shafton's present interest, except as I happened to be the one
to introduce him to it. I haven't seen him but twice since I came to
New York, and then only to take him around among my babies at the
Settlement and once over to the Orphans' Home, where I've been helping
out while an old friend of mine with whom I worked in France is away
with her sick sister."