r the other.
You and I fancied we loved each other for a while. We don't
fool ourselves in that way now. At least I don't, though I
believe you do imagine I'm in love with you."

"You wouldn't be here if you weren't."

"Put that out of your head, Rod. It'll only breed trouble.
I don't like to say these things to you, but you compel me to.
I learned long ago how foolish it is to put off unpleasant
things that will have to be faced in the end. The longer
they're put off the worse the final reckoning is. Most of my
troubles have come through my being too weak or
good-natured--or whatever it was--to act as my good sense told
me. I'm not going to make that mistake any more. And I'm
going to start the new deal with absolute frankness with you.
I am not in love with you."

"I know you better than you know yourself," said he.

"For a little while after I found you again I did have a
return of the old feeling--or something like it. But it soon
passed. I couldn't love you. I know you too well."

He struggled hard with his temper, as his vanity lashed at it.
She saw, struggled with her old sensitiveness about inflicting
even necessary pain upon others, went on:

"I simply like you, Rod--and that's all. We're well
acquainted. You're physically attractive to me--not wildly
so, but enough--more than any other man--probably more than
most husbands are to their wives--or most wives to their
husbands. So as long as you treat me well and don't wander
off to other women, I'm more than willing to stay on here."

"Really!" said he, in an intensely sarcastic tone. "Really!"

"Now--keep your temper," she warned. "Didn't I keep mine when
you were handing me that impertinent talk about how I should
dress and the rest of it? No--let me finish. In the second
place and in conclusion, my dear Rod, I'm not going to live
off you. I'll pay my half of the room. I'll pay for my own
clothes--and rouge for my lips. I'll buy and cook what we eat
in the room; you'll pay when we go to a restaurant. I believe
that's all."

"Are you quite sure?" inquired he with much satire.

"Yes, I think so. Except--if you don't like my terms, I'm
ready to leave at once."

"And go back to the streets, I suppose?" jeered he.

"If it were necessary--yes. So long as I've got my youth and
my health, I'll do precisely as I please. I've no craving for
respectability--not the slightest. I--I----" She tried to
speak of her birth, that sec