"That's polite. Well, I've cleared 'em out. Not that I minded their unconventionality; I liked it. It was so different from the straight-jackets and the hypocrisy I'd been living among and hating. But I soon found out that--well, Miss Stevens, the average human being ought to be pretty conventional in his morals of a certain kind. If he--or SHE--isn't, they begin to get unconventional in every way--about paying their bills, for instance, and about drinking. I got sick and tired of those people. So, I put 'em all out--made a sweep. And now I've become quite as respectable as I care to be--or as is necessary. The couples in the house are married, and they're nice people of good families. It was Mrs. Dyckman--she's got the whole second floor front, she and her husband and the daughter--it was Mrs. Dyckman who interested me in the suffrage movement. You must hear her speak. And the daughter does well at it, too--and keeps a fashionable millinery-shop--and she's only twenty-four. Then there's Nora Blond." "The actress?" "The actress. She's the quietest, hardest-working person here. She's got the whole first floor front. Nobody ever comes to see her, except on Sunday afternoon. She leads the queerest life." "Tell me about that," said Mildred. "I don't know much about it," confessed Mrs. Belloc. "She's regular as a clock--does everything on time, and at the same time. Two meals a day--one of them a dry little breakfast she gets herself. Walks, fencing, athletics, study." "What slavery!" "She's the happiest person I ever saw," retorted Mrs. Belloc. "Why, she's got her work, her career. You don't look at it right, Miss Stevens. You don't look happy. What's the matter? Isn't it because you haven't been working right--because you've been doing these alleged pleasant things that leave a bad taste in your mouth and weaken you? I'll bet, if you had been working hard, you'd not be unhappy now. Better come here to live." "Will you let me tell you about myself?" "Go right ahead. May I ask questions, where I want to know more? I do hate to get things halfway." Mildred freely gave her leave, then proceeded to tell her whole story, omitting nothing that was essential to an understanding. In conclusion she said: "I'd like to come. You see, I've very little money. When it's gone, I'll go, unless I make some more." "Yes, you must come. That Mrs. Brindley seems to be a nice woman, a mighty nice woman. But her house, and the people that come there--they aren't the right sort for a girl that's making a start. I can give you a room on the top floor--in front. The young lady next to you is a clerk in an architect's office, and a fine girl she is." "How much does she pay?" said Mildred.