"Just fancy what he said: ’A friendship which doesn’t grow spontaneously out of joint partnership in work is built on quicksands.’" "He’s a fanatic," said Harry Kelly, breaking his silence and one of Cornelia’s saucers in the violence of his feelings. "Nonsense, Hercules," she said, in a tone that poured contempt on his vehemence. "He has simply let all the soft places grow in his head and all the hard places in his heart." Janet went into the next room to hang up her hat and coat. Claude followed her. "I think Robert’s ideas are getting more and more unbalanced," he said, dictatorially. "If I were you, Janet, I’d finish up my work with him at once." "It takes two to break a bargain, Claude." "Well, you might at least keep your relations with him on a strictly business footing—and as little of that as possible." He ignored her slight mutinous gesture. "He’s a difficult man to get along with," he went on. "Look how even Hutchins Burley had to fire him. And as if his dismissal from the _Chronicle_ were not bad enough, he joins these Guildsmen people who are trying to wreck the very basis of modern society. That has just about dished him, as far as the Outlaws are concerned. They all cut him now." A new imperiousness crept into his voice as he added: "I wish that, for my sake, you would not be seen going about with him, ever." He accepted her silence as an evidence of tacit consent. *III* The very next afternoon, before a full hour’s writing and typing had been done, Robert amazed Janet by proposing that they suspend work and take a walk. "I want particularly to talk to you," he said. "About what?" "About love," said Robert, gravely. What girl could resist an invitation like that? Despite Claude’s stern admonition, Janet did not wait to be urged. They walked near the East River towards the gas-house district, and presently turned into a recreation pier which was almost deserted. Clearly, Robert was looking for a very private and sequestered corner. On the way, every topic was broached except the one that Robert had advanced as an excuse for truancy. Did suspense sharpen Janet’s anticipation? No. Janet was curious, but not consumedly so. She had a marvelous power of attracting confidences and was quite used to having young men, who had known her only a few days, confide in her their love affairs, their religious or financial troubles, and indeed the whole history of their lives. True, Robert might be in love, not with another girl but with herself. Having no false modesty, Janet entertained the suspicion for a moment. Only for a moment, however. For the presumption against it seemed conclusive. Meanwhile, they walked happily along, until Robert found the spot that suited him. This was at the end of the pier farthest from the street. No watchman being in sight, they sat down on a great terminal beam and let their legs swing over the green and choppy water.