pleasure of fooling them."
"Oh, no. To get money, Rod--the best reason in the world, it
being rather hard for a woman to make money by working for it."
"The man's in love with you!"
"I wish he were," said Susan, laughing. "I'd not be here, my
dear--you may be sure of that. And I'd not content myself
with forty a week. Oh, you don't know what tastes I've got!
Wait till I turn myself loose."
"Well--you can--in a few months," said Spenser.
Even as he had been protesting his disbelief in her story, his
manner toward her had been growing more respectful--a change
that at once hurt and amused her with its cynical suggestions,
and also pleased her, giving her a confidence-breeding sense
of a new value in herself. Rod went on, with a kind of
shamefaced mingling of jest and earnest:
"You stick by me, Susie, old girl, and the time'll come when
I'll be able to give you more than Brent."
"I hope so," said Susan.
He eyed her sharply. "I feel like a fool believing such a
fairy story as you've been telling me. Yet I do."
"That's good," laughed she. "Now I can stay. If you hadn't
believed me, I'd have had to go. And I don't want to do
that--not yet."
His eyes flinched. "Not yet? What does that mean?"
"It means I'm content to stay, at present. Who can answer for
tomorrow?" Her eyes lit up mockingly. "For instance--you.
Today you think you're going to be true to me don't you? Yet
tomorrow--or as soon as you get strength and street clothes, I
may catch you in some restaurant telling some girl she's the
one you've been getting ready for."
He laughed, but not heartily. Sperry came, and Susan went to
buy at a department store a complete outfit for Rod, who still
had only nightshirts. As she had often bought for him in the
old days, she felt she would have no difficulty in fitting him
nearly enough, with her accurate eye supplementing the
measurements she had taken. When she got back home two hours
and a half later, bringing her purchases in a cab, Sperry had
gone and Rod was asleep. She sat in the bathroom, with the
gas lighted, and worked at "Cavalleria" until she heard him
calling. He had awakened in high good-humor.
"That was an awful raking you gave me before Sperry came,"
began he. "But it did me good. A man gets so in the habit of
ordering women about that it becomes second nature to him.
You've made it clear to me that I've even less control over
you than you have over me. So, d
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