efore he married _her_, you know. And I hunted
for them--one by one. I could feel they were just what he needed, you
see. I mean that back among such friends I hoped he'd stop just making
money and get to work--on things he had dreamed of! You understand?"

"I think so--but not fully. Go on in your own way, my dear. Don't try
to think. Keep talking."

"Thank you. I was in love with him. There was nobody else, man, woman
or child--except Susette. She was Amy's little girl. You see, Mrs.
Crothers, when Amy died I was there--I had just come to town. So I
stayed with Joe to look after Susette. Then later on I began to feel
that he was beginning to care for me. And I didn't like that--on Amy's
account, for I worshipped her then. So I broke away and took a
job. . . . Oh, what in the world am I getting at!"

"Don't try to think. Just tell me. You took a job. What was it?"

Ethel told of Greesheimer, and then of coming back to Joe, of his
poverty and of her nursing Susette, of dreaming of children, of falling
in love, of marriage and the birth of her boy.

"But all the time Amy had been there. Do you understand! Like a
spirit, I mean! She had Joe first! She had shaped him!"

"Yes--"

"And so when he loved me even more, I do believe, than he ever loved
her--still he did the thing she would have wanted. Amy had taught him
to show his love by loading money on his wife. And that was what
started everything wrong. For he got rich--for my sake--and the money
brought Amy's friends back in a horde! Oh, now I'm repeating! I've
said all that--"

"Please say it again! You're doing so well!" Ethel told about Fanny and
the rest. "I tried to like them--honestly! But I simply couldn't!" she
cried.

"Why couldn't you? Tell me plainly just what it was you wanted."

"What I wanted? Plainly? Oh, dear--I can't exactly--"

"What kind of people?"

Ethel frowned.

"Not just eaters!" she exclaimed. "I wanted men and women who--well,
who were seeing something big--and beautiful and real in life! Life is
so hard and queer in this town--so awfully crowded and mixed up--and
empty, somehow. You know how I mean? But they see something in it all.
Not clearly--it's way off, you know. And they're busy of course, and by
no means saints. They have their worries and their faults and
pettiness--they're human, too, But they're looking for something really
worth while! Oh, I can't express it--I really can't!"

"Oh, yes you can, you've done quite we