ll have nothing to be jealous of? Well, you're wrong both ways.
There's more to it than that. And that isn't going to stop just because
she's marrying you. She'll always be there for him. And he'll be there
for her. You'll find that out before you've gone far."

He didn't seem disposed to dispute this, nor to be much perturbed about
it, either. He annoyed her by saying, "Well, if it's a permanent fact,
like snow in February, what's the good of taking it so hard?"

"You can go south in February," she retorted. Then she went on, "I want
to know if you don't think I've a right to be jealous of her. I'd saved
his life. He admitted that. But when we went south, afterward, he simply
didn't want me around. Sent me home pretending I'd be wanted for
rehearsals. And then he sent for her. They spent a week
together--talking! As far as that goes, they could have done it just as
well if I'd been there. They can talk right over my head and I never know
what it's all about. Wait till they begin doing that with you! I don't
suppose they will though. You're a talker, too. He told her things he'd
never told me-about his money troubles. What he said to me was that he
didn't want to stand in the way of my career. He left her to tell me the
truth about it, later,--after I'd told him I didn't want any
career--though I'd just been offered the best chance I ever had. And
then, when he came and found that I'd done--for him--what he'd been
trying to make me do for myself, he was furious. We fought all night
about it. And when I came down the next morning, ready to do anything he
wanted me to, he'd wandered off with Mary. To talk me over with her
again.--Tell her some more things, I suppose, that I didn't know about."

March had nothing to interpose here, it seemed, in Mary's defense, for
her pause gave him ample opportunity to do so. He merely nodded
reflectively and loaded and lighted his pipe.

"Well," she demanded presently, "can you see now that there's something
more to it than jealousy? Whatever I try to do, he fights. When I wanted
to begin singing again last spring, he fought that. And when I wanted to
give it all up, after he'd so nearly died, he wouldn't let me. And when
I'd refused the best chance I'd ever had, for him, and then changed
around and accepted it because of him, he seemed to hate me for doing
that. And he simply boiled when I told him I'd gone and got the money,
myself, from Wallace Hood."

"Yes," March said, so decis