ke
your workmen see what we're at, when we talk about home and country.
They despise us, Amabel, except on pay day. Let's hypnotise 'em, please
'em in some other way besides shorter hours and easier strikes. Let's
make 'em fall over themselves to be Americans."

Miss Amabel flushed all over her soft face, up to the line of her grey
hair.

"Jeff," she said.

"What'm?"

"I have always meant when you were at liberty again--" that seemed to
her a tolerable euphemism--"to turn in something toward your debt."

"To the creditors?" Jeff supplied cheerfully. "Amabel, dear, I don't
believe there are any little people suffering from my thievery. It's
only the big people that wanted to be as rich as I did. Anne and Lydia
are suffering in a way. But that's my business. I'm going to confess to
you. Dear sister superior, I'm going to confess."

She did not move, hardly by an eyelash. She was afraid of choking his
confidence, and she wanted it to come abundantly. Jeff sat for a minute
or two frowning and staring into the fire. He had to catch himself back
from what threatened to become silent reverie.

"I've thought a good deal about this," he said, "when I've had time to
think, these last weeks. I'd give a lot to stand clear with the world.
I'd like to do a spectacular refunding of what I stole and lost. But I'd
far rather pitch in and save Addington. Maybe it means I'm warped
somehow about money, standards lowered, you know, perceptions blunted,
that sort of thing. Well, if it's so I shall find it out sometime and be
punished. We can't escape anything, in spite of their doctrine of
vicarious atonement."

She moved slightly at this, and Jeff smiled at her.

"Yes," said he, "we have to be punished. Sometimes I suppose the full
knowledge of what we've done is punishment enough. Now about me. If
anybody came to me to-day and said, 'I'll make you square with the
world,' I should say, 'Don't you do it. Save Addington. I'd rather throw
my good name into the hopper and let it grind out grist for Addington.'"

Miss Amabel put out the motherly hand and he grasped it.

"And I assure you," he said again, "I don't know whether that's
common-sense--tossing the rotten past into the abyss and making a new
deal--or whether it's because I've deteriorated too much to see I've
deteriorated. You tell, Amabel."

She took out her large handkerchief--Amabel had a convenient pocket--and
openly wiped her eyes.

"I'll give you money, Jeff," sh