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‘‘Let's talk marriage；'' said he。 ‘‘I want this thing settled。 You know you intend to marry me； Mildred。 Why not say so？ Why keep me gasping on the hook？''
They heard the front door open； and the rustling of skirts down the hall。 Mildred called：
‘‘Mrs。 Brindley！ Cyrilla！''
An instant and Cyrilla appeared in the doorway。 When she and Baird had shaken hands； Mildred said：
‘‘Cyrilla； I want you to tell the exact； honest truth。 Is there any hope for a woman with a delicate throat to make a grand…opera career？''
Cyrilla paled； looked pleadingly at Mildred。
‘‘Tell him；'' commanded Mildred。
‘‘Very little；'' said Mrs。 Brindley。 ‘‘But''
‘‘Don't try to soften it；'' interrupted Mildred。 ‘‘The truth； the plain truth。''
‘‘You've no right to draw me into this；'' cried Cyrilla indignantly； and she started to leave the room。
‘‘I want him to know；'' said Mildred。 ‘‘And he wants to know。''
‘‘I refuse to be drawn into it；'' Cyrilla said； and disappeared。
But Mildred saw that Stanley had been shaken。 She proceeded to explain to him at length what a singer's career meantthe hardships； the drafts on health and strength； the absolute necessity of being reliable； of singing true； of not disappointing audienceswhat a delicate throat meanthow delicate her throat was how deficient she was in the kind of physical strength neededmuscular power with endurance back of it。 When she finished he understood。
‘‘I'd always thought of it as an art；'' he said ruefully。 ‘‘Why； it's mostly health and muscles and things that have nothing to do with music。'' He was dazed and offended by this uncovering of the mechanism of the artby the discovery of the coarse and painful toil； the grossly physical basis； of what had seemed to him all idealism。 He had been full of the delusions of spontaneity and inspiration； like all laymen； and all artists； too； except those of the higher ranksthose who have fought their way up to the heights and； so； have learned that one does not achieve them by being caught up to them gloriously in a fiery cloud； but by doggedly and dirtily and sweatily toiling over every inch of the cruel climb。
He sat silent when she had finished。 She waited； then said：
‘‘Now； you see。 I release you； and I'll take no more money to waste。''
He looked at her with dumb misery that smote her heart。 Then his expression changedto the shining； hungry eyes； the swollen veins； the reddened countenance； the watering lips of desire。 He seized her in his arms； and in a voice trembling with passion； he cried： ‘‘You must marry me； anyhow！ I've GOT to have you； Mildred。''
If she had loved him； his expression； his impassioned voice would have thrilled her。 But she did not love him。 It took all her liking for him； and the memory of all she owed himthat unpaid debt！to enable her to push him away gently and to say without any show of the repulsion she felt：
‘‘Stanley； you mustn't do that。 And it's useless to talk of marriage。 You're generous； so you are taking pity on me。 But believe me； I'll get along somehow。''
‘‘Pity？ I tell you I love you；'' he cried； catching desperately at her hands and holding them in a grip 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 thishad 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 friendshipourour 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 sensiblebe 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 thingwe 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 ne… cessity。 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 circumstances that I wasn't after your money。''
‘‘Don't worry about that；'' replied he。 ‘‘I understand you better than you understand yourself。''
‘‘Let's stop talking about it；'' said she impatiently。 ‘‘I want to explain to you the business side of this。'' She took her purse from the table。 ‘‘Here are the papers。'' She handed him a check and a note。 ‘‘I made them out at the bank this morning。 The note is for what I owe youand draws interest at four per cent。 The check is for all the money I have left except about four hundred dollars。 I've some bills I must pay； and also I didn't dare quite strip myself。 The note may not be worth the paper it's written on； but I hope''
Before she could prevent him he took the two papers； and； holding them out of her reach； tore them to bits。
Her eyes gleamed angrily。 ‘‘I see you despise me as much as I've invited。 But； I'll make them out again and mail them to you。''
‘‘You're a silly child；'' said he gruffly。 ‘‘We're going to be married。''
She eyed him with amused exasperation。 ‘‘It's too absurd！'' she cried。 ‘‘And if I yielded； you'd be trying to get out of it。'' She hesitated whether to tell him frankly just how she felt toward him。 She decided against it； not through considerationfor a woman feels no consideration for a man she does not love； if he has irritated herbut through being ashamed to say harsh things to one whom she owed so much。 ‘‘It's useless for you to pretend and to plead；'' she went on。 ‘‘I shall not yield。 You'll have to wait until I'm free and independent。''
‘‘Y