ep us thoughtless and unformed until life is half over. She
astonished him by suddenly announcing one evening:

"I am a drag on you. I'm going to take a place in a store."

He affected an indignation so artistic that it ought to have
been convincing. "I'm ashamed of you!" he cried. "I see you're
losing your nerve."

This was ingenious, but it did not succeed. "You can't deceive
me any longer," was her steady answer. "Tell me honest--couldn't
you have got something to do long ago, if it hadn't been for
trying to do something for me?"

"Sure," replied he, too canny to deny the obvious. "But what has
that to do with it? If I'd had a living offer, I'd have taken
it. But at my age a man doesn't dare take certain kinds of
places. It'd settle him for life. And I'm playing for a really big
stake and I'll win. When I get what I want for you, we'll make as
much money a month as I could make a year. Trust me, my dear."

It was plausible; and her "loss of nerve" was visibly
aggravating his condition--the twitching of hands and face, the
terrifying brightness of his eyes, of the color in the deep
hollows under his cheek bones. But she felt that she must
persist. "How much money have we got?" she asked.

"Oh--a great deal enough."

"You must play square with me," said she. "I'm not a baby, but
a woman--and your partner."

"Don't worry me, child. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"How much? You've no right to hide things from me. You--hurt me."

"Eleven dollars and eighty cents--when this bill for supper's
paid and the waitress tipped."

"I'll try for a place in a store," said she.

"Don't talk that way or think that way," cried he angrily.
"There's where so many people fail in life. They don't stick to
their game. I wish to God I'd had sense enough to break straight
for Chicago or New York. But it's too late now. What I lack is
nerve--nerve to do the big, bold things my brains show me I ought."

His distress was so obvious that she let the subject drop. That
night she lay awake as she had fallen into the habit of doing.
But instead of purposeless, rambling thoughts, she was trying
definitely to plan a search for work. Toward three in the
morning she heard him tossing and muttering--for the wall
between their rooms was merely plastered laths covered with
paper. She tried his door; it was locked. She knocked, got no
answer but incoherent ravings. She roused the office, and the
night porter fo