"She wrote me,—I got the letter yesterday,—Lordy, what did I do with it? Never mind. I'll look for it later on. I can remember nearly every word, so it doesn't matter. She says she has made up her mind to give all that money to charity. Some darned nonsense about never knowing happiness as long as she has the stuff in her possession. Absolute idiocy! Wants me to handle the matter for her. Lawyer, and all that sort of thing, you see. I know what the game is, and so do you. She'd sooner have you than all that money. By Gosh! I—here's something I never thought of before." He paused and wiped his brow, utter bewilderment in his eyes. "It has just occurred to me that I'd sooner have Anne than all the money I've got. I've said that to myself a thousand times and—But that has nothing to do with the case. Lordy, it gave me a shock for a second or two, though. Seems to knock my argument all to smash. Still there _is_ a difference. I didn't _earn_ my money. Where was I? Oh, yes,—er—she's got the idea into her head that she can never be anything to you until she gets rid of that money. Relief fund! Red Cross! Children's Welfare! Tuberculosis camps! All of 'em! Great snakes! Every nickel! Can you beat it? Now, there's just one way to stop this confounded nonsense. You can do it, and you've got to come to the mark." Thorpe was breathing fast, his eyes were glowing. "But suppose that I fail to regard it as confounded nonsense. Suppose—" "Will you marry Anne Thorpe if she gives up this money?" demanded Simmy sharply. "That has nothing to do with Anne's motives," said Thorpe grimly. "She wants to give it up because it is burning her soul, Simmy." "Rats! You make me sick, talking like that. She is giving it up for your sake and not because her soul is even uncomfortably hot. Now, I want to see you two patch things up, cut out the nonsense, and get married,—but I don't intend to see Anne make a fool of herself if I can help it. That money is Anne's. The house is hers. The—By the way, she says she intends to _keep_ the house. But how in God's name is she going to maintain it if she hasn't a dollar in the world? Think the Red Cross will help her when she begins to starve down there—" "I shall do nothing to stop her, Simmy," said Thorpe firmly. "If she has made up her mind to give all that money to charity, it is her affair, not mine. God knows the Red Cross Society and the Relief Funds need it now more than ever before. I'll tell you what I think of Anne Tresslyn's sacri—" "Anne Thorpe, if you please." "She _hates_—do you hear?—_hates_ the money that my grandfather gave to her. It hurts her in more ways than you can ever suspect. Her honour, her pride, her peace of mind—all of them and more. She sold me out, and she hates the price she received. It is something deeper with her than mere—"