She assented and touched the coat gently with her fingers, stroking it. “It is a coat Mr. Stewart bought himself,” she said—“in China. He found it when he was buying goods—and liked it. But we’ve had it in stock some time, and he told me to mark it down for the sale. After that, when no one bought it”—she seemed to look at Eleanor almost with reproachful eyes—“then he told me to put back the original price.... It’s more than worth it, of course.” “Of course,” said Richard absently. He was wondering how much Eleanor really wanted the coat. She had not spoken from the moment it was laid on her shoulders. She seemed to have withdrawn into it—to have become an inaccessible part of its mystery and charm. “I had not expected—to pay more than fifty dollars,” said Richard More slowly. “I happen to have that amount with me——-” The woman waited on the suggestion.... She looked at the two people before her. “I’ll speak to Mr. Stewart—if he hasn’t gone. It’s not like regular stock. I don’t know whether he would sell it for less——” She moved away from them down the store and they stood, with all the dummy figures standing around, and waited for her. Richard More did not speak. He longed to ask his wife whether she wanted it as much as that—as much as ninety-five dollars. But he could not shape the words that would say it. He almost wondered whether she would understand—if he asked her. She stood with her hands hanging idle and her eyes looking down. She was like a prehistoric creature—an Oriental Madonna of ageless form and beauty.... Almost, he fancied, there were tears in the lidded eyes.... He started and turned brusquely. The clerk was coming back. He looked at her keenly as she came toward them. She shook her head. “Ninety-five dollars,” she said. “But you can have a charge, of course.” His hand moved to his pocket and his eyes were on his wife’s face. She turned, with a shiver of the long silken lines, and she threw back the coat with a laugh. “How absurd, Richard I—We can’t pay all that money—for a whim!” His hand stayed itself from the pocket. “Don’t you want it?” he asked doubt-ingly. “Of course not!” She shook the coat from her and stepped out. The woman caught it with a quick gesture as it fell. His hand waited, fingering the coins in his pocket. “I think we could manage it——” “Oh—! I don’t want it!” She ignored the woman. She moved swiftly past her and was half-way to the elevator. He sprang after her, with a backward glance of apology at the woman, who stood with the coat on her arm, gazing after them. In the elevator Eleanor shivered a little, and he squeezed her arm in his in the darkness. “It’s all right!” he said soothingly, beneath his breath. She nodded and pressed a little against him. When they stepped into the light he glanced at her face. It had almost a tragic look. “Better go back and get it,” he said peremptorily. “Hang the price!” But she shook her head.