ien and apart. We talk at the table as
two strangers might in a crowded restaurant or hotel, that is, when he's
there. I dare not ask people to dinner, for I never know whether he's
coming or not. He might promise faithfully to come, and then appear at
midnight, without apology or excuse."

[Sidenote: All Sorts of Subterfuges]

"He supports you," suggested Madame, glancing at the sea-green crepe.

"Yes, of course. That is, the question of money hasn't arisen between
us, one way or another. I have no children, father and mother left me
plenty of money, and I don't mind using it in any way that seems
advisable. In fact, if I had to, I'd rather pay the household bills than
beg for money, as many a wife is compelled to do--or, for that matter,
even ask for it. It isn't as if I had to earn it myself, you know. If I
had to, I'd probably feel differently about it, but, as it is, money
doesn't matter between us at all.

"Friends of mine," she resumed, "have to resort to all sorts of
subterfuges. I know women who bribe the tradespeople to make their bills
larger than they should be and give them the difference in cash. I know
men who seem to think they do their wives a favour by paying for the
food they themselves eat, and by paying their own laundry bills. Then,
every once in a while, I see in some magazine an article written by a
man who wonders why women prefer to work in shops and factories, rather
than to marry. It must be better to get a pay-envelope every Saturday
night without question or comment, than it is to humiliate your immortal
soul to the dust it arose from, begging a man for money to pay for the
dinner he ate last night, or for the price of a new veil to cover up
your last year's hat."

[Sidenote: Defiance]

"All this," said Madame, threading her needle again, "is new to me. I
live so out of the world, that I know very little of what is going on
outside."

"Happy woman! Perhaps I should be happy, also, since this particular
phase of the problem doesn't concern me. Money may not be your best
friend, but it's the quickest to act, and seems to be favourably
recognised in more places than most friends are. For the size of it, a
check book is about the greatest convenience I know of."

The brown eyes were cold now, and their soft lights had become a
glitter. The scarlet mouth was no longer sweet and womanly, but set into
a hard, tight line. Colour burned in her cheeks--not a delicate flush,
but the crimson