"Thank you. I was in love with him. There was nobody else, man, woman or child--except Susette. She was Amy's little girl. You see, Mrs. Crothers, when Amy died I was there--I had just come to town. So I stayed with Joe to look after Susette. Then later on I began to feel that he was beginning to care for me. And I didn't like that--on Amy's account, for I worshipped her then. So I broke away and took a job. . . . Oh, what in the world am I getting at!" "Don't try to think. Just tell me. You took a job. What was it?" Ethel told of Greesheimer, and then of coming back to Joe, of his poverty and of her nursing Susette, of dreaming of children, of falling in love, of marriage and the birth of her boy. "But all the time Amy had been there. Do you understand! Like a spirit, I mean! She had Joe first! She had shaped him!" "Yes--" "And so when he loved me even more, I do believe, than he ever loved her--still he did the thing she would have wanted. Amy had taught him to show his love by loading money on his wife. And that was what started everything wrong. For he got rich--for my sake--and the money brought Amy's friends back in a horde! Oh, now I'm repeating! I've said all that--" "Please say it again! You're doing so well!" Ethel told about Fanny and the rest. "I tried to like them--honestly! But I simply couldn't!" she cried. "Why couldn't you? Tell me plainly just what it was you wanted." "What I wanted? Plainly? Oh, dear--I can't exactly--" "What kind of people?" Ethel frowned. "Not just eaters!" she exclaimed. "I wanted men and women who--well, who were seeing something big--and beautiful and real in life! Life is so hard and queer in this town--so awfully crowded and mixed up--and empty, somehow. You know how I mean? But they see something in it all. Not clearly--it's way off, you know. And they're busy of course, and by no means saints. They have their worries and their faults and pettiness--they're human, too, But they're looking for something really worth while! Oh, I can't express it--I really can't!" "Oh, yes you can, you've done quite well," said Mrs. Crothers steadily. "And now to narrow this down to Joe, you wanted him to be like that--in his work and so in his life with you. Was that it?" "Yes! And he used to be! You must know that!" "Yes--I knew that. Your husband and I were once very good friends." "That's it, and I guessed it!" Ethel cried. "I was making wild guesses in the dark. And at last I put my finger on his partner, and we had a talk. It was a talk, a hard one--but I made him believe me in the end. And he told me a little about you--and I wanted to meet you, oh, so much! But he seemed to be out of touch with you, so he took me to Mr. Dwight instead. I had always wanted to sing, you know--and the rest of it--well, Mr. Dwight must have told you." "Only a little," was the reply. "I don't yet fully understand. How did all this bring trouble with Joe? It's something serious, you said--"