“Without breaking a single law of reason or common-sense. In the meantime I've met two men who have really made love to me. I thought I loved one of them--until I met the other. The second proved himself to be an unprincipled scoundrel. If I had held your views of life and hated my work, I would have married this man and lived to awake in a prison whose only door was Death. But I loved my work. Life meant more than one man who was not worth an hour's tears. I turned to my studio and he slipped back into the gutter where he belonged. I'll meet MY Fate some day, too, dear. I'm waiting and watching--but with clear eyes and unafraid. I'll know mine when he comes, I shall not be blinded by passion or the fear of drudgery. Can't you see this bigger world of realities?” The dimple flashed again in the smooth red cheek. “It's not for me, Jane. I'm just a modest little home body. I'll bide my time----” “And eat your foolish heart out here between the narrow walls of this cell you've built for yourself. I should think you'd die living here alone.” The girl flushed. “I'm not lonely----” “Don't fib! I know better. Your birds and kitten occupy daily about thirty minutes of the time that's your own. What do you do with the rest of it?” “Sit by my window, watch the crowds stream through the streets below, read and dream and think----” “Yes--read love stories and dream about your Knight.” “Well?” “It's morbid and unhealthy. You've hedged yourself about with the old conventions and imagine you're safe--and you are--until you meet HIM!” “I'll know how to behave--never fear.” “You mean you'll know how instantly to blindfold, halter and lead him to the Little Church Around the Corner?” Mary moved uneasily. “And what else should I do with him?” “Compare him with other men. Weigh him in the balances of a remorseless common-sense. Study him under a microscope and keep your reason clear. The girl who rushes into marriage in a great city under the conditions in which you and I live is a fool. More girls are ruined in New York by marriage than by any other process. The thunderbolt out of the blue hasn't struck you yet, but when it does----” “I'll tell you, Jane.” “Will you, honestly?” The question was asked with wistful tenderness. “I promise. And you mustn't think I don't appreciate this visit and the chance you've given again to enter the `big world' you're always telling me about. I just can't do it, dear. It's not my world.” “All right, my little foolish virgin, have it your own way. When you're lonely, run up to my studio to see me. I won't ask you to pose or meet any of the dangerous men of my circle. We'll lock the doors and have a snug time all by ourselves.” “I'll remember.” The clock in the Metropolitan Tower chimed the hour of five, and Jane Anderson rose with a quick, business-like movement.