"Yes, thankee." She was looking down, picking shyly at the fringe on her wrap. "And I want you to know 'twas you done it. I have had a hard life--you don't know how hard--ever since I was a little bit of a gal--till I run away from home. And then 'twas harder. And they all treated me's if I was just a--a dog, and the worst kind of a dog. So I lived like a dog. I learned how to bite, and then they treated me some better, because they found I would bite if they fooled with me. And then I learned what fools and cowards men were, and I used 'em. I used to love to play 'em, and I done it. I used to amuse 'em for money and hold 'em off. But I knew sometime I'd die like a dog as I lived like one--and then you came--." She paused and looked away out of the window, and after a gulp went on again: "They preached at me for dancin'. But I don't think there's any harm dancin'. And I love it better'n anything else in the worl'." "I do not, either," said Keith. "You was the only one as treated me as if I was--some'n' I warn't. I fought against you and tried to drive you out, but you stuck, and I knew then I was beat. I didn't know 'twas you when I--made such a fool of myself that time--." Keith laughed. "Well, I certainly did not know it was you." "No--I wanted you to know that," she went on gravely, "because--because, if I had, I wouldn' 'a' done it--for old times' sake." She felt for her handkerchief, and not finding it readily, suddenly caught up the bottom of her skirt and wiped her eyes with it as she might have done when a little girl. Keith tried to comfort her with words of assurance, the tone of which was at least consoling. "I always was a fool about crying--an' I was thinkin' about Bill," she said brokenly. "Good-by." She wrung his hand, turned, and walked rapidly out of the room, leaving Keith with a warm feeling about his heart. CHAPTER XXI THE DIRECTORS' MEETING Keith found, on his arrival in New York to meet his directors, that a great change had taken place in business circles since his visit there when he was getting up his company. Even Norman, at whose office Keith called immediately on his arrival, appeared more depressed than Keith had ever imagined he could be. He looked actually care-worn. As they started off to attend the meeting, Norman warned Keith that the meeting might be unpleasant for him, but urged him to keep cool, and not mind too much what might be said to him. "I told you once, you remember, that men are very unreasonable when they are losing." He smiled gloomily. Keith told him of old Rawson's offer. "You may need it," said Norman.