The heart has a resiliency. Strained to breaking, it can contract again. Even the waiting women, Iseult and Penelope, learned, as they sat sorrowing and watching, to sing to the swing of the sea. When, out of the slough of dark weeks, Mrs. Connors took up life again, she was only beaten, not broken--a reed lashed down by storm and then resilient, daring to lift its head again. A wan little head, but the eyes unwashed of their blue and the irises grown large. The same hard sunshine lay in its path between the brocade curtains of a room strangely denuded. It was as if spring had died there, when it was only the _chaise-longue_, barren of its lacy pillows, a glass vase and silver-framed picture gone from the mantel, a Mexican afghan removed from a divan and showing its bulges. It was any hotel suite now--uncompromising; leave me or take me. In taking leave of it, Mrs. Connors looked about her even coldly, as if this barren room were too denuded of its memories. "You--you been mighty good to me, Joe. It's good to know--everything's--paid up." Mr. Joe Kirby sat well forward on a straight chair, knees well apart in the rather puffy attitude of the uncomfortably corpulent. "Now, cut that! Whatever I done for you, Annie, I done because I wanted to. If you'd 'a' listened to me, you wouldn't 'a' gone and sold out your last dud to raise money. Whatcha got friends for?" "The way you dug down for--for the funeral, Joe. He--he couldn't have had the silver handles or the gray velvet if--if not for you, Joe. He--he always loved everything the best. I can't never forget that of you, Joe--just never." She was pinning on her little crêpe-edged veil over her decently black hat, and paused now to dab up under it at a tear. "I'd 'a' expected poor old Blutch to do as much for me." "He would! He would! Many's the pal he buried." "I hate, Annie, like anything to see you actin' up like this. You ain't fit to walk out of this hotel on your own hook. Where'd you get that hand-me-down?" She looked down at herself, quickly reddening. "It's a warm suit, Joe." "Why, you 'ain't got a chance! A little thing like you ain't cut out for but one or two things. Coddlin'--that's your line. The minute you're nobody's doll you're goin' to get stepped on and get busted." "Whatta you know about--" "What kind of a job you think you're gonna get? Adviser to a corporation lawyer? You're too soft, girl. What chance you think you got buckin' up against a town that wants value received from a woman. Aw, you know what I mean, Annie. You can't pull that baby stuff all the time." "You," she cried, beating her small hands together, "oh, you--you--" and then sat down, crying weakly. "Them days back there! Why, I--I was such a kid it's just like they hadn't been! With her and my grandmother dead and gone these twelve years, if it wasn't for you it's--it's like they'd never been."