Even Amory saw the sense of it, but that did not alter the fact that to all intents and purposes Dorothy was lending her money on the condition that she did as she was told with it. Not _exactly_ that, of course, but rather indelicately like it. And she had all but told Amory that her place was disgracefully dirty and herself underfed. Amory wasn't sure that Dorothy wasn't simply one mass of pose. She could come here and speak her mind plainly enough, could talk in quite a grasping spirit of the money she intended to get; but Amory could imagine her with Mr. Miller--anything but plain; sly, wheedling, not helping in the emancipation of her sex at all, but actually doing all she could to rivet their chains the faster upon them; neither forgetting, nor allowing Mr. Miller to forget, that she was rather a personable young woman. Amory called it the next thing to--well, she wouldn't say what. She would be kind, merely say that they were in opposite camps, and let it go at that. Therefore she was not giving Dorothy one for herself, but was merely showing herself staunch to a high ideal, when she said, effusively, but still with dignity, "Oh, thank you so very, very much ... if you _could_ possibly get me the money.... Perhaps I haven't managed very well, but as you say, I've other things to think of; and about what you say about Croziers', I hardly think----" But Dorothy cut bluntly in. "Rubbish! They've just taken advantage of your ignorance and inexperience. I should tell 'em they could make kite-tails of their silly old contract! Look here, shall _I_ see Mr. Dix for you?" Amory hesitated. She did not want to see Mr. Dix again herself, firstly because she felt that an artist ought to be spared these sordid matters, and secondly because she always wanted to wash herself when Mr. Dix had covered her with those galantined eyes. But Dorothy was not an artist, and apparently didn't mind a glutinous look more or less. To the coarser nature the coarser task. One didn't chop firewood with a razor.... "What'd be the good?" she sighed. "I signed the thing." "Leave that to me," said Dorothy briskly. "I'll talk to Mr. Dix for you. At least I'll get permission for you to sell things privately, and then you can reckon the ten pounds off the price of the picture I'll buy--for my scheme's bound to come off! So we'll call that a bet. And now I must fly. Do try my plan with Mrs. 'Ill. When's Cosimo coming back? Yes, I saw about his uncle. Good-bye, dear.... And oh, dear, now I'm forgetting the very thing I came for! You will sign that advertisement, won't you?" "What advertisement?" Amory asked. She had forgotten all about the Ararat Coat. But now she remembered.... "Oh, that waterproof thing! Oh, you don't want me to sign that!"