ith my hands. I wouldn't if I didn't
have to, any more than the next fellow. I might fool myself, too, with
thinking I could work better without any money worries. But I've got to
remember this. It took work to make a man of me before, and it will take
work to keep me going the way I intend to go, if I get my freedom."

Sometime during the night Bassett saw that the light was still burning
by the davenport, and went in. Dick was asleep with a volume of Whitman
open on his chest, and Bassett saw what he had been reading.

"You broken resolutions, you racking angers, you short-lived ennuis; Ah,
think not you shall finally triumph, my real self has yet to come forth.
It shall march forth over-mastering, till all lie beneath me, It shall
stand up, the soldier of unquestioned victory."

Bassett took the book away and stood rereading the paragraph. For the
first time he sensed the struggle going on at that time behind Dick's
quiet face, and he wondered. Unquestioned victory, eh? That was a pretty
large order.

XL

Leslie Ward had found the autumn extremely tedious. His old passion for
Nina now and then flamed up in him, but her occasional coquetries no
longer deceived him. They had their source only in her vanity. She
exacted his embraces only as tribute to her own charm, her youth, her
fresh young body.

And Nina out of her setting of gaiety, of a thumping piano, of
chattering, giggling crowds, of dancing and bridge and theater boxes,
was a queen dethroned. She did not read or think. She spent the leisure
of her mourning period in long hours before her mirror fussing with her
hair, in trimming and retrimming hats, or in the fastidious care of her
hands and body.

He was ashamed sometimes of his pitilessly clear analysis of her. She
was not discontented, save at the enforced somberness of their lives.
She had found in marriage what she wanted; a good house, daintily
served; a man to respond to her attractions as a woman, and to provide
for her needs as a wife; dignity and an established place in the world;
liberty and privilege.

But she was restless. She chafed at the quiet evenings they spent at
home, and resented the reading in which he took refuge from her uneasy
fidgeting.

"For Heaven's sake, Nina, sit down and read or sew, or do something.
You've been at that window a dozen times."

"I'm not bothering you. Go on and read."

When nobody dropped in she would go upstairs and spend the hour or so
befor