I'm in a position to marry that man to the girl he's mad about--stark, raving mad." Mrs.Mortimer slowly raised her head and looked at her husband.
"Leroy, are you mad ?" "I! Not much!" he exclaimed gleefully.

"I can make him the husband of the most-run-after girl in New York--if I want to.

And at the same time I can puncture the most arrogant, the most cold-blooded, selfish, purse-proud, inflated nincompoop that ever sat at the head of a director's table.

O-ho! Now you're staring, Leila.

I can do it; I can make good.