Basil came to see me that night. Daphne was still in jail, and very comfortable. She sent me word not to worry, as she was getting new material for speeches, and had two ready. I refused to see Basil, but he followed the maid back, and stood looking down at me. "Viv says you saw me," he began without any preamble. "I did, but I didn't recognise you. You've committed yourself." He changed colour. "What else was there to do?" he demanded. "Those two geese would have gone on forever. Viv had the money in his desk, but it was my plan, not his." As it happened, I had sent father a cablegram about Viv and Poppy just before I was arrested, and now I saw his reply on the mantel. "Sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander," he had cabled. Well, I had had the jail, and Basil had had--a cold! Basil followed my eyes. "More cablegrams!" he said. "Why doesn't that chap come over and get you?" "Because I am going back to him. I can't stand the pressure, Basil. Viv and Poppy are all right for this year, but how about next? Is it to be the same thing again?" "They're going to Italy to live." "A compromise?" I quoted, rather bitterly. "'Not victory but a truce.' You and I made that marriage. It was the T. C. that did it." Basil took the cablegram from the mantel and deliberately read it. When he got to the signature he drew a long breath and then he grinned. "So that's that!" he said. "Well, Maggie, are you going back to father, or--staying here with me?" "You're afraid of me." "I'll take the risk, Madge. I didn't tell you, Uncle Egbert died while you were away." "I've been in jail for stealing," I quavered. "And I'd do it again, Basil, for the Cause." "Bless the Cause," said Basil manfully. "Why shouldn't you vote, if you want to? Aren't you cleverer, and lovelier, and more courageous than any man that ever lived? Anyhow, you're right. Things are rotten. What sane government would lock a man up because his wife refuses to pay her taxes?" I lifted my head from his shoulder. "That wretched house at home----" I began. But he was quite cheerful. "We'll sell it," he said, "and you shall spend the money for pretties to wear, that don't pay a tax." It was compromise again. I knew it, but I yielded. After a time I said: "Basil, what was the retort you gave Poppy about the T. C.?" "Nothing much," he replied complacently, "I told her, if any one sprung it at her again, to say that if men had made the Ten Commandments, they'd have added an eleventh amendment long ago, or else have annulled them." End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Affinities and Other Stories, by Mary Roberts Rinehard