“I’m afraid she can. That’s one reason I lost my job--she kept calling up the office all the time, and that was sort of the last straw down there. She’s got a letter all written to send to my family. Oh, she’s got me, all right. I’ve got to have some money for her.” There was an awkward pause. Gordon lay very still, his hands clenched by his side. “I’m all in,” he continued, his voice trembling. “I’m half crazy, Phil. If I hadn’t known you were coming East, I think I’d have killed myself. I want you to lend me three hundred dollars.” Dean’s hands, which had been patting his bare ankles, were suddenly quiet--and the curious uncertainty playing between the two became taut and strained. After a second Gordon continued: “I’ve bled the family until I’m ashamed to ask for another nickel.” Still Dean made no answer. “Jewel says she’s got to have two hundred dollars.” “Tell her where she can go.” “Yes, that sounds easy, but she’s got a couple of drunken letters I wrote her. Unfortunately she’s not at all the flabby sort of person you’d expect.” Dean made an expression of distaste. “I can’t stand that sort of woman. You ought to have kept away.” “I know,” admitted Gordon wearily. “You’ve got to look at things as they are. If you haven’t got money you’ve got to work and stay away from women.” “That’s easy for you to say,” began Gordon, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve got all the money in the world.” “I most certainly have not. My family keep darn close tab on what I spend. Just because I have a little leeway I have to be extra careful not to abuse it.” He raised the blind and let in a further flood of sunshine. “I’m no prig, Lord knows,” he went on deliberately. “I like pleasure--and I like a lot of it on a vacation like this, but you’re--you’re in awful shape. I never heard you talk just this way before. You seem to be sort of bankrupt--morally as well as financially.” “Don’t they usually go together?” Dean shook his head impatiently. “There’s a regular aura about you that I don’t understand. It’s a sort of evil.” “It’s an air of worry and poverty and sleepless nights,” said Gordon, rather defiantly. “I don’t know.” “Oh, I admit I’m depressing. I depress myself. But, my God, Phil, a week’s rest and a new suit and some ready money and I’d be like--like I was. Phil, I can draw like a streak, and you know it. But half the time I haven’t had the money to buy decent drawing materials--and I can’t draw when I’m tired and discouraged and all in. With a little ready money I can take a few weeks off and get started.” “How do I know you wouldn’t use it on some other woman?” “Why rub it in?” said Gordon, quietly. “I’m not rubbing it in. I hate to see you this way.” “Will you lend me the money, Phil?” “I can’t decide right off. That’s a lot of money and it’ll be darn inconvenient for me.” “It’ll be hell for me if you can’t--I know I’m whining, and it’s all my own fault but--that doesn’t change it.” “When could you pay it back?”