e city, his view of its mighty pulsing life, restless,
heaving, leaping on, gripped her more than ever before. And moreover,
now that Amy was dead, Ethel soon began to feel another Joe emerging out
of some period long ago. With a new and curious eagerness to find in
him what her sister had never known (an eagerness she would have
disclaimed with the utmost indignation), she began to probe into Joe's
past. And in answer to her questions he threw out hints of old ideals
in which the making of money had played only a second part. He had
meant to be an architect, a builder of another kind. Instead of putting
up "junk in the Bronx," he had meant to do something big and new,
something bold and very French, "to make these infernal New Yorkers sit
up and open their cold grey eyes." At times he rather thrilled her with
hints of his early bachelor life in New York and Paris, his student
days.

About this time, one evening, he brought his partner home to dinner, but
the experiment proved even more of a failure than it had in the past.
Nourse made Ethel feel as before his surly, jealous dislike of her
presence in Joe's home. And Ethel's hostility redoubled. She recalled
what Amy had told her of his tiresome worship of work, its routine and
its dull detail. No wonder Joe's ideals had died, with such a man in
his office.

"What a pity you're his partner," her manner plainly said to him, for
she was not good at hiding dislikes. And to that his gloomy eyes
rejoined, "What a damned shame it you were his wife."

But Nourse did not come again. And with business dropped out of their
talk, she and Joe turned to other things--small happenings of the
household, amusing incidents of the day, and little problems to be
solved. They were well into the summer by now, and Susette ought to go
to the seashore. They began to discuss seaside hotels, and chose a
place along the Sound. It was decided that Emily should stay here to
look after Joe, and that he should run up for his week-ends. In the
meantime, as his business improved, he began to bring Ethel little
surprises, candy or spring flowers, and to take her out in his car at
night. They went to the theatre several times. And everything which
was said or done upon such occasions gave Ethel food for thinking.

At the seashore, with Susette on the beach, hour after hour, she thought
about Joe and about herself. This thinking was long and curious. It
was confused, barely conscious at times, all mi