"Men's watch bracelets! Real men don't wear them. Mollycoddles!" "Oh, don't they! No I guess not! Only engineers, and policemen and aviators and soldiers, that's all. Mollycoddles like that. They say they aren't wearing any kind _but_ wrist watches over there. Well, if we go into the war I go into the men's watch-bracelet business, that's what. Fortune in it." "Yeh," said Henry Kemp, haggardly. "If we go into the war I go into the poor-house." Belle stood up, decisively. "It's getting late, Henry." Mrs. Payson bristled. "It's only a little after nine. You only come once a week. I should think you needn't run off right after dinner." "But it isn't right after dinner, mother. Besides Henry has been working terribly hard. He's worn out." Mrs. Payson, who knew the state of Henry's business, sniffed in unbelief. But they went. In the hall: "Then you'll be in to-morrow morning, Lottie?" "Yes." Lottie seemed a little pale. Mrs. Payson's face hardened. You heard a roar outside. Henry warming up the engine. Snorts and chugs, then a gigantic purr. They were off. The three settled down again in the living room. Mrs. Payson liked to talk to men. Years of business intercourse had accustomed her to them. She liked the way their minds worked, clear and hard. When Lottie had company she almost always sat with them. Lottie had never hinted that this was not quite as it should be. She never even told herself that perhaps this might have had something to do with her being Lottie Payson still. She was glad enough to have her mother remain in the room this evening. She sat, knitting. She was thinking of Orville Sprague, and of Ben Gartz. Of Charley and this boy--this Jesse Dick. How slim the boy was, and how young, and how--vital! That was it, vital. His jaw made such a clean, clear line. It almost hurt you with its beauty.... Beck Schaefer.... Bell hop.... So that was what Henry had meant. Youth's appeal to women of her age. A morbid appeal.... She shook herself a little. Her mother and Ben Gartz were talking. "That's a pretty good proposition you got there, Mrs. Payson, if you can swing it. I wouldn't be in any hurry, if I was you. You hang on to it." There always was talk of "propositions" and "deals" when Mrs. Payson conversed with one of Lottie's callers. "I think a good deal of your advice, Mr. Gartz. After all, I'm only a woman alone. I haven't got anyone to advise me." "You don't need anybody, Mrs. Payson. You're as shrewd as that Rolfe is, any day. He's waiting to see how this war's going to go. Well, you wait too. You've got a good proposition there----" Lottie rose. "I'll get you something to drink," she said. He caught her arm. "Now don't you bother, Miss Lottie." He always called her "Miss Lottie" when others were there, and "Lottie" when they were alone.