n't because you were angry with
me. Well, I'm like that to-night. There's something that's got to be
thought out. Only, I'm not like you. I can't do it alone. I've got to
have help. I don't want to be soothed and comforted like a child, and I
don't want to be made love to. I just want to be treated like a human
being."

"I see," he said. Very deliberately he lighted a cigarette, found
himself an ash-tray and settled down astride a spindling little chair.
(It was lucky for Florence McCrea's peace of mind that she didn't see
him do it.) "All right," he said. "Now, come on with your troubles." He
didn't say "little troubles," but his voice did and his smile. The whole
thing would probably turn out to be a question about a housemaid, or a
hat.

Rose steadied herself as well as she could. She simply mustn't let
herself think of things like that. If she lost her temper she'd have no
chance.

"We've made a horrible mistake," she began. "I don't suppose it's either
of our faults exactly. It's been mine in a way of course, because it
wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been--thoughtless and ignorant. I
might have seen it if I'd thought to look. But I didn't--not really,
until to-night."

He wanted to know what the mistake was. He was still smiling in
good-humored amusement over her seriousness.

"It's pretty near everything," she said, "about the way we've
lived--renting this house in the first place."

He frowned and flushed. "Good heavens, child!" he said. "Can't you take
a joke? I didn't mean anything by what I said about the house--except
that--well, it is a precious, soulful, sacred--High Church sort of
house, and we're not the sort of people, thank God--I'll say it
again--who'd have built it and furnished it for ourselves. You _aren't_
right, Rose. You're run down and very tired and hypersensitive, or you
wouldn't have spent an evening worrying over a thing like that."

"You can make jokes about a thing that's true," she persisted. "And it's
true that you've hated the way we've lived--the way this house has made
us live.--No, please listen and let me talk. I can't help it if my voice
chokes up. My mind's just as cool as yours and you've got to listen. It
isn't the first time I've thought of it. It's always made me feel a
little unhappy when people have laughed about the 'new leaf' you've
turned over; how 'civilized' you've got, learning all the new dances and
going out all the time and not doing any of the--wild th