"I heard he cut school to get married. What about him?" "You see, it works automatically," Mary said. "He married a girl I knew rather well. She was a senior when I entered the U. They were very much in love. Are yet, for that matter. But they're not very happy about it. Marty's people accept her so grudgingly. His friends have dropped him more or less. Marty had always been used to plenty of money. His father gave him a job in the office at the regular beginner's salary and cut off his allowance. His pay is less than Grace herself is capable of earning. Marty's pride won't permit her to work. She is clever and ambitious, and probably has more real culture than some of the people who either patronize or snub her because she's a nobody--her people are poor as church mice and rather commonplace. The whole thing has got Marty's goat, and it's getting Grace's. Marty can't see why he should be deprived of everything he had been taught to regard as his right. Grace resents the way he's being penalized for marrying her. She is proud, too, and the invisible wall that's thrown up in her face hurts. I can see lots of breakers ahead for them. In fact, they're in them now." "Marty Graham's a nut," Rod declared. "Can't a man make his own way without his people's backing, if he has to? You don't put me in Marty's class as a husband, I hope." "He's a nice boy," she sighed. "He can't adjust himself to a way of living for which he had no training, that's all. After a while he'll begin to see so clearly what he's lost by marrying out of his class, as they say. Then the fat will be in the fire. They'll both suffer." "But I tell you Graham's a nut. A footless ass. He always was," Rod protested earnestly. "Don't his actions prove it? Would I grieve if the family got rather miffed over me marrying the girl I wanted? Not much. I'm not quite so dependent financially as he is, anyhow. That's one of the good points about our affairs. There is no arbitrary cutting off of my small share in the inherited income. Even if there were, I'm quite sure we could play the game so they'd have to take us at our face value--which is quite good enough. Why, you chump," he tried to rally her, "is that all that worries you?" "It doesn't worry me," Mary said straightforwardly, "because I'm not going to be tied or bound, or tie you, Rod. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way--through school and whatever comes after. I don't know whether my destiny leads to a job or a profession, to art or dishwashing, but it must lead somewhere that I want to go, where I'm qualified to go. I have to find out where." "It leads here," Rod drew her up close to him for one unresisting moment. "You know it does. I've often wondered if it did--but now I know."