asked her that, as well as he could, in steadier, kinder words than
he need have used.

And she dropped her hand and sighed a little. "Don't spoil everything
by arguing with me, Marty. I really am only a kid, you know. Be good
and run along now. Look--it's almost one."

The blood rushed to his head, and he held out his hands to her. "But I
love you. I love you, Joany. You can't--you CAN'T tell me to go." It
was a boy's cry, a boy profoundly, terribly hurt and puzzled.

"Well, if we've got to go into all this now I may as well sit down,"
she said, and did. "That air's rather chilly, too." She folded her arms
over her breast.

It was enough. All the chivalry in Martin came up and choked his anger
and bitterness and untranslatable disappointment. He went out and shut
the door and stumbled downstairs into the dark sitting room and stood
there for a long time all among chaos and ruin. He loved her to
adoration, and the spring was in his blood; and if she was young, she
was not so young as all that; and where was her side of the bargain?
And at last, through the riot and jumble of his thoughts, her creed of
life came back to him, word for word: she took all she could get and
gave nothing in return; and "Who cares?" was her motto.

And after that he stood like a man balanced on the edge of a precipice.
In cold blood he could go back and like a brute demand his price. And
if he went forward and let her off because he loved her so and was a
gentleman, down he must go, like a stone.

He was very white, and his lips were set when he went up to his room.
With curious deliberation he got back into his clothes and saw that he
had money, returned to the hall, put on his coat and hat, shut the door
behind him and walked out under the stars.

"All right, then, who cares?" he said, facing toward the "Great White
Way." "Who the devil cares?"

And up in her room, with her hand under her cheek like a child, Joan
had left the world with sleep.

PART TWO

THE ROUND-ABOUT

I

Alice Palgrave's partner had dealt, and having gone three in "no
trumps" and found seven to the ace, king, queen in hearts lying before
her in dummy, she wore a smile of beatific satisfaction. So also did
Alice--for two reasons. The deal obviously spelled money, and Vere
Millet could be trusted to get every trick out of it. There were four
bridge tables fully occupied in the charming drawing-room, and as she
caught the hostess' eye and smiled, s