as just occurred
to me that I'd sooner have Anne than all the money I've got. I've said
that to myself a thousand times and--But that has nothing to do with the
case. Lordy, it gave me a shock for a second or two, though. Seems to
knock my argument all to smash. Still there _is_ a difference. I didn't
_earn_ my money. Where was I? Oh, yes,--er--she's got the idea into her head
that she can never be anything to you until she gets rid of that money.
Relief fund! Red Cross! Children's Welfare! Tuberculosis camps! All of
'em! Great snakes! Every nickel! Can you beat it? Now, there's just one
way to stop this confounded nonsense. You can do it, and you've got to
come to the mark."

Thorpe was breathing fast, his eyes were glowing. "But suppose that I fail
to regard it as confounded nonsense. Suppose--"

"Will you marry Anne Thorpe if she gives up this money?" demanded Simmy
sharply.

"That has nothing to do with Anne's motives," said Thorpe grimly. "She
wants to give it up because it is burning her soul, Simmy."

"Rats! You make me sick, talking like that. She is giving it up for your
sake and not because her soul is even uncomfortably hot. Now, I want to
see you two patch things up, cut out the nonsense, and get married,--but I
don't intend to see Anne make a fool of herself if I can help it. That
money is Anne's. The house is hers. The--By the way, she says she intends
to _keep_ the house. But how in God's name is she going to maintain it if
she hasn't a dollar in the world? Think the Red Cross will help her when
she begins to starve down there--"

"I shall do nothing to stop her, Simmy," said Thorpe firmly. "If she has
made up her mind to give all that money to charity, it is her affair, not
mine. God knows the Red Cross Society and the Relief Funds need it now
more than ever before. I'll tell you what I think of Anne Tresslyn's
sacri--"

"Anne Thorpe, if you please."

"She _hates_--do you hear?--_hates_ the money that my grandfather gave to
her. It hurts her in more ways than you can ever suspect. Her honour, her
pride, her peace of mind--all of them and more. She sold me out, and she
hates the price she received. It is something deeper with her than mere--"

"You are wrong," broke in Simmy, suddenly calm. He leaned forward and laid
his hand on Thorpe's knee. "She wants you more than anything else in the
world. You are worth more to her than all the money ever coined. It is no
real sacrifice, the way she feels a