"Pooh! Nobody but party members read it. Most of your circulation is given away--and thrown into the gutter. You think working-men ought to read a Socialist paper. But they don't. They prefer a real paper with news in it and pictures and a funny page. Yetta was a fool to give up her work on _The Star_. That was real publicity. "You want to get Yetta on _The Clarion_. You surely do need somebody who knows how to write! You want her to drift away from the real work of organization--just as you did. I see through your mutual benefit talk. Instead of helping our work, you want to get her away from us. Well, the less she gets mixed up with _The Clarion_ and your little closed circle of dogmatists, the better I'll be pleased." "Come to think of it," Isadore said, changing his tactics, "I would like to see Yetta give all her time to _The Clarion_. As you say, we surely do need good writers. But that wasn't in my mind when I came in. "I'm worried about Yetta. She needs to be kept busy--busier than she is. Of course I wouldn't want her to know I was butting in like this. But she's worrying about something--" Mabel, her mind made up to be disagreeable, interrupted him. "I knew it wasn't interest in the League that brought you here. I owe this visit to your solicitude about Yetta." "That's not just, either, Mabel--although it's nearer right than your first guess. Yetta's principal work is with the League. It's natural I should come to you. I am really worried about her. Something's troubling her." "What's the matter?" "I don't know." Isadore was surprised at the ease with which he lied. "You don't have to know what's wrong to see that things aren't right. You'd have noticed it, too, if you had not been seeing her every day. But I haven't seen her for a long time"--he expanded his lie. "She came into my office this morning and it scared me. This 'what's-the-use' look. She's moody, sad. Going through some sort of a crisis. We all have them. Times when we wonder what God had against us when He made us, and all that. The only thing that helps is work. "Yetta isn't doing much more for you than when she was studying or working on _The Star_. I guess it's the empty mornings that cause the trouble. Really, the way she looked startled me. I was coming uptown, anyway, and I decided to drop in and put it up to you. I really think the work I suggested--which would fill up her mornings--would help you fully as much as us." Mabel bit the end of her pencil and looked out at the street. She was sure that Isadore had not told her all he knew. Probably Yetta had found Walter indifferent and was cut up over that. She would find out in the evening when Walter called on her. Perhaps more work would be good for Yetta. Not the job Isadore suggested. She had a decided hostility to him and this wild newspaper fad which had taken him away from "really useful work."