"Press me no more Mr. Snooper," said Gladys Vavasour-Smith. "I can never be yours." "You have led me to believe different, Gladys," said Bertram D. Snooper. The setting sun was flooding with golden light the oriel windows of a magnificent mansion situated in one of the most aristocratic streets west of the brick yard. Bertram D. Snooper, a poor but ambitious and talented young lawyer, had just lost his first suit. He had dared to aspire to the hand of Gladys Vavasour-Smith, the beautiful and talented daughter of one of the oldest and proudest families in the co