"I don’t think anything ever will help. I’m done for, Lexie." "You won’t always feel like that," was the consoling rejoinder. Maggy sat up in bed. "I tried to kill myself to-day," she said abruptly. "But the stuff only made me sick. That’s why I wasn’t at the theater. I should be dead by now if it had worked properly." "Maggy!" "Yes, I did. How could I go on living? It’s not worth it. Alone again: a room like this without even you to make it bearable ... or men. I won’t do that. I went to the bad for love. I won’t do it out of habit." "Don’t be so despondent. You won’t have to live alone, dear. You shall leave the stage and be with me." "Is it likely?" asked Maggy, with a touch of her old independence. "I wouldn’t tell anybody but you, but I gave Fred more than he gave me. It’s the meanness of it all that hurts so. There was the flat, I know, and the car; but they were only mine so long as he wanted me. And I paid for the meals I had in the place out of my salary. He gave me money for dresses because he liked me showy, but I went to sales and bought bargains, and what I saved that way I spent on him. And all the time I gave love, love, love! Oceans of it! Let me go on. Then, just before you went on tour I knew I was going to have a baby. Lexie, I longed for it! I think I’m the sort of woman that’s meant to have babies without much pain or trouble, just for the sheer joy of mothering them and kissing their dear, pink, crumply palms. But Fred was annoyed about it. I told him he could put me in a laborer’s cottage in the country and I’d live on ten shillings a week if only he would let me be a mother. Mrs. Lambert knew. I told her.... I had to go to a dreadful place in Bayswater until—until it was over.... Fred arranged everything. He seemed to know all about it. And I wasn’t even a mother, Lexie. I nearly died. I wish I had. And when I was back again with Fred, instead of hating him it somehow made me feel more than ever bound up with him in my heart, because of having gone through so much for him. He was quite kind to me afterwards, almost tender for him. He used to bring me flowers. I wonder why. He couldn’t have loved me.... But now it’s all over...." Alexandra put her arms round the shaking girl. "Lie still," she said. She held Maggy to her as she would have held a child, and kissed her and cried over her in sheer pity, so stirred was she by the heartrending story. Presently Maggy lay very still, breathing evenly, asleep in Alexandra’s arms. But Alexandra lay awake for a long time, trying to find a reason for the discrepancies of life. Why, for her, should there be provided a haven of safety, and for Maggy nothing but a desolate sea with breakers ahead?