she could not break. "You've no right
to treat me like this."

It was one of those veiled and stealthy reminders of obligation
habitually indulged in by delicate people seeking repayment of the
debt, but shunning the coarseness of direct demand. Mildred saw her
opportunity. Said she quietly:

"You mean you want me to give myself to you in payment, or part
payment, for the money you've loaned me?"

He released her hands and sprang up. He had meant just that, but he
had not had the courage, or the meanness, or both, to admit boldly his
own secret wish. She had calculated on this--had calculated well.
"Mildred!" he cried in a shocked voice. "YOU so lacking in delicacy as
to say such a thing!"

"If you didn't mean that, Stanley, what DID you mean?"

"I was appealing to our friendship--our--our love for each other."

"Then you should have waited until I was free."

"Good God!" he cried, "don't you see that's hopeless? Mildred, be
sensible--be merciful."

"I shall never marry a man when he could justly suspect I did it to
live off him."

"What an idea! It's a man's place to support a woman!"

"I was speaking only of myself. _I_ can't do it. And it's absurd for
you and me to be talking about love and marriage when anyone can see
I'd be marrying you only because I was afraid to face poverty and a
struggle."

Her manner calmed him somewhat. "Of course it's obvious that you've
got to have money," said he, "and that the only way you can get it is
by marriage. But there's something else, too, and in my opinion it's
the principal thing--we care for each other. Why not be sensible,
Mildred? Why not thank God that as long as you have to marry, you can
marry someone you care for."

"Could you feel that I cared for you, if I married you now?" inquired
she.

"Why not? I'm not so entirely lacking in self-esteem. I feel that I
must count for something."

Mildred sat silently wondering at this phenomenon so astounding, yet a
commonplace of masculine egotism. She had no conception of this vanity
which causes the man, at whom the street woman smiles, to feel
flattered, though he knows full well what she is and her dire
necessity. She could not doubt that he was speaking the truth, yet she
could not believe that conceit could so befog common sense in a man
who, for all his slowness and shallowness, was more than ordinarily
shrewd.

"Even if I thought I loved you," said she, "I couldn't be sure in these
circu