"Yes, I must--I must! You must be made to understand." She drew a deep breath. "My husband was not like Alan. When he found out how I felt about it he was surprised at first--but gradually he began to see--or at least I fancied he saw--the hatefulness of it. At any rate he saw how I suffered, and he offered to give up the whole thing--to sell the paper. It couldn't be done all of a sudden, of course--he made me see that--for he had put all his money in it, and he had no special aptitude for any other kind of work. He was a born journalist--like Alan. It was a great sacrifice for him to give up the paper, but he promised to do it--in time--when a good opportunity offered. Meanwhile, of course, he wanted to build it up, to increase the circulation--and to do that he had to keep on in the same way--he made that clear to me. I saw that we were in a vicious circle. The paper, to sell well, had to be made more and more detestable and disgraceful. At first I rebelled--but somehow--I can't tell you how it was--after that first concession the ground seemed to give under me: with every struggle I sank deeper. And then--then Alan was born. He was such a delicate baby that there was very little hope of saving him. But money did it--the money from the paper. I took him abroad to see the best physicians--I took him to a warm climate every winter. In hot weather the doctors recommended sea air, and we had a yacht and cruised every summer. I owed his life to the _Radiator_. And when he began to grow stronger the habit was formed--the habit of luxury. He could not get on without the things he had always been used to. He pined in bad air; he drooped under monotony and discomfort; he throve on variety, amusement, travel, every kind of novelty and excitement. And all I wanted for him his inexhaustible foster-mother was there to give!