Elaine closed her eyes and let her head fall back. Joe’s eyes fastened on the pulse in her wan throat. “Ah, don’t let’s begin that again,” she said in a lifeless voice. “It gets us nowhere. . . . I love you! Isn’t that enough?” A spark returned to Joe’s eyes; his lips pushed out a little. “But where is it going to land us?” he said. “We’ve got to thresh the thing out.” Elaine opened her eyes. “Oh for heaven’s sake give me a cigarette and let’s stop arguing about ourselves.” He put the cigarette between her lips and lighted it. “Why don’t you want to marry me?” he persisted. “If I marry, commonsense tells me it ought to be a man of my own sort. . . .” “This is new!” put in Joe. “Where did you get it?” “. . . This madness will pass. What would we have then?” “You mean one of the slick young fellows I meet around here? How often have you told me that their smoothness made you sick? You said it was my commonness and coarseness and naturalness that attracted you in the beginning.” “Sure, I said it; what good to remind me of it now.” “I’m only trying to get at your meaning.” “Well . . . marriage is an everyday affair—a matter of superficialities if you like; breakfast, lunch and dinner. We have to live by little things when this passes. . . .” “What makes you think this feeling we have for each other will pass?” demanded Joe. “That is not like you.” “Well . . . everybody says it will pass . . .” “Who is everybody . . . Wilfred Pell?” Elaine straightened up in anger. She tossed the cigarette into the fire. “Don’t be common and tiresome!” she said. “Do you think I would allow Wilfred Pell to discuss my private affairs with me?—or any other man? . . . What on earth made you think of him?” “I dunno,” said Joe indifferently. “I just had a hunch. . . . Just the same, it _was_ Wilfred Pell.” “Oh, very well!” said Elaine hotly. “Then I am a liar!” There was a silence. Joe whistled softly between his teeth. “Not that I give a damn,” he presently said, good-humoredly. “A man like Wilfred Pell couldn’t trouble my peace any. I know the white-faced, hungry-eyed breed. You will always find them in a woman’s room whispering with her. That’s as near as they get, poor devils! sympathetic and safe!” “Wilfred Pell is a gentleman!” said Elaine. “He is intelligent and good-hearted and decent!” “Sure!” cried Joe, grinning with an open brow. “He is all that; and I am none of it!—But what does it all signify really, between man and woman?” Elaine was silent, still angry. “This is just spinning words,” said Joe, his voice becoming warm. “Why fight against the inevitable, sweetheart? I am your man! You can’t resist me!” “And you?” she asked. “You are my woman!” he said with glittering eyes. “Look at me!”