"Oh, I knew they wouldn't submit," Nan flung back at him. "They despise me--impersonally, at first and before it seemed that I might dim the family pride; personally, when it was apparent that I could dim it if I desired. Well, I'm tired of being looked at and sneered at, and I haven't money enough left to face New York again. I had dreamed of the kind of living I might earn, and when the opportunity to earn it was already in my grasp, I abandoned it to come back to Port Agnew. I had intended to play fair with them, although I had to lie to Donald to do that, but--they hurt something inside of me--something deep that hadn't been hurt before--and--and now--" [Illustration: "I'M A MAN WITHOUT A HOME AND YOU'VE _GOT_ TO TAKE ME IN, NAN."] "Now _what_!" Mr. Daney cried in anguished tones. "If Donald McKaye comes down to the Sawdust Pile and asks me to marry him, I'm going to do it. I have a right to happiness; I'm--I'm tired--sacrificing--Nobody cares--no appreciation--Nan of the Sawdust Pile will be--mistress of The Dreamerie--and when they--enter house of mine--they shall be--humbler than I. They shall--" As Mr. Daney fled from the house, he looked back through the little hall and saw Nan Brent seated at her tiny living-room table, her golden head pillowed in her arms outspread upon the table, her body shaken with great, passionate sobs. Mr. Daney's heart was constricted. He hadn't felt like that since the Aurora Stock Company had played "East Lynne" in the Port Agnew Opera House. XXXVIII