“Not much to look at, is it?” she said. “But wait! Some day I shall have a grand studio like yours!” She sat down on the cot, and motioned him to draw up the less rickety chair. “The first day I was in town I slunk past your studio and peeped in. Some one was going out the door, and I got a glimpse of the inside.” “Why in the world didn’t you come in and see us?” “I don’t know.... I thought perhaps you wouldn’t remember me. And besides, I wanted to get established before I let any of my friends know—even Clive. I wanted to prove that I could do something by myself.” A curious smile lit her face as she added: “It annoys Clive that I should have got a job without his help!” “But why?” he wondered. He remembered what Clive had once said about the “battle” between himself and Phyllis. It had seemed absurd at the time.... She did not reply, and so he asked: “Why shouldn’t you be willing to be helped by your friends?” “Well—one sometimes isn’t,” she said defensively. All at once he felt the pathetic helplessness behind her masquerade of independence. And, moved by an odd impulse, he wanted to make her admit the truth to him. “Is it just because it’s Clive?” he asked. For a moment she looked at him coldly as if about to rebuke his presumption, and then looked down and said: “I suppose so....” “I thought you were in love with him,” he said bluntly. She laughed. “But aren’t you?” he insisted. “What a question!” she retorted. “Are I or aren’t I? You talk like my mother!... How do I know?” “And you talk like Clive!” he said. “Probably I learned it from him.... I’ve learned ’most everything I know from him.” “You’re an odd girl,” he told her. “So Clive says.... You’re very like Clive yourself, do you know?” “I wish I were more like him, in some ways; but in other respects—” “Yes—you’re very much like him. Only—more so!” “What do you mean? You rather alarm me.” “Oh, you needn’t be alarmed. My meaning is very flattering. I think a lot of Clive!” “Then why do you run away from him?” Felix demanded. “Is coming to Chicago running away from him?” “He wanted you to come to Chicago three years ago—didn’t he?” “Yes, but—Oh, it’s very involved. Are you really interested? I’m not sure that I understand it myself.” He was quite sure that she wanted to tell him the whole story. And he wanted to hear it. “I’m very much interested,” he said. “And perhaps,” he hazarded, “—perhaps I could help you to understand.” “I wish you could.... I don’t know where to begin.” Yes—she did want to tell him. And it would be interesting to know the truth about Clive and Phyllis—at last! “Begin with yourself—before Clive came along,” he commanded. “Oh—you think he changed me?” “I’m sure of it.”