Why not? Am I demanding anything of you? You know I'm not--and that I
never shall."

"But there's no reason on earth why _you_ should support _me_. I can work.
Why shouldn't I? And if I didn't, if I stayed on here, what sort of
woman would I be?"

He was unable to find an answer. He was trying not to see a look in her
face--or was it in her soul, revealed through her eyes?--a look that
made him think for the first time of a resemblance between her and her
father.

"You see yourself I've got to go. Any money I could earn wouldn't more
than pay for a room and board somewhere."

"You can let me advance you money while you--" He hesitated, had an idea
which he welcomed eagerly--"while you study for the stage. Yes, that's
the sensible thing. You can learn to act. Then you will be able to make
a decent living."

She slowly shook her head. "I've no talent for it--and no liking. No,
Mr. Norman, I must go back to work--and right away."

"But at least wait until you've looked into the stage business," he
urged. "You may find that you like it and that you have talent for it."

"I can't take any more from you," she said.

"You think I am not to be trusted. I'm not going to say now how I feel
toward you. But I can honestly say one thing. Now that you are all alone
and unprotected, you needn't have the least fear of me."

She smiled faintly. "I see you don't believe me. Well, it doesn't
matter. I've seen Mr. Tetlow and he has given me a place at twelve a
week in his office."

Norman sank back in his chair. "He is in for himself now?"

"No. He's head clerk for Pitchley & Culver."

"Culver!" exclaimed Norman. "I don't want you to go into Culver's
office. He's a scoundrel."

Again Dorothy smiled faintly. Norman colored. "I know he stands well--as
well as I do. But I can't trust you with him. That sounds ridiculous
but--it's true."

"I think I can trust myself," she said quietly. Her grave regard fixed
his. "Don't you?" she asked.

His eyes lowered. "Yes," he replied. "But--why shouldn't you come back
with us? I'll see that you get a much better position than Culver's
giving you."

Over her face crept one of those mysterious transformations that made
her so bafflingly fascinating to him. Behind that worldly-wise,
satirical mask was she mocking at him? All she said was: "I couldn't
work there. I've settled it with Mr. Tetlow. I go to work to-morrow."

"To-morrow!" he cried, starting up.

"And I've found a place to