But one thing he saw clearly--and it made him glad. Yetta's romance had come while she was still young. She was only twenty-two. Life would pick her up again. It might be Isadore, it might be some one else. But her pulse was too strong to let her decay. There are many real joys in life if you get rid of romance early enough. Time was when he had felt as she did, when nothing but the best seemed worth having. He saw clearly that what he could have given her would not have satisfied her. Yetta had not stopped to put on her hat. Her eyes dimmed with tears, she had stumbled down the stairs and out across the street into the Square, towards home. Then she remembered that it was early, that her room-mate would be still awake. She could not go home. There were many people about, some stretched on the grass, some grouped on the benches, some strolling about. Many noticed the hatless girl who shuffled along blindly. And presently she ran into Isadore. He also was walking about aimlessly, his head bent, his hands deep in his pockets. "Good God, Yetta," he cried in amazement, "what's wrong?" She raised her tear-wet face to him, stretching out her hand towards the familiar voice. "We're not going to get married," she said. "Hadn't you better let me take you home?" "Sadie'll be up. I don't want to go home." "Well, then, come over here and sit down." Hardly knowing what she did, she followed him to an empty bench. Now, Isadore did not believe in guardian angels, but something told him not to talk. "It's like this," Yetta said, feeling that some further explanation was necessary, "he's still in love with Mabel." And Isadore had sense enough to say nothing at all. Yetta turned about on the bench and, resting her head on her arms, began to sob. Half the night through, Isadore sat beside her there on guard. BOOK V CHAPTER XXV ISADORE'S MEDICINE Sadie Michelson, as she was making coffee the next morning, was cogitating over the fact that she had not seen her new room-mate since they had moved into the flat. What was the meaning of these late hours? She was convinced that this Mr. Longman, whose rooms Yetta had formerly occupied and who had just come back to claim them, had something to do with it. Her speculations were interrupted by the telephone bell. Yetta also heard it vaguely in her uneasy sleep and dreamed that Walter was calling her. Sadie hurried to the receiver. She hoped to find a clew to the mystery. It was a surprise--and a disappointment--for her to recognize Isadore's voice. "Hello, Sadie. Is Yetta up yet?" "No. She got in very late last night and--" "I know," Isadore interrupted. "I was out with her." This was a new disappointment. Mr. Longman was not to blame after all.