Gora led a lonely life outside of her work, a lonely inner life always. She had never had an intimate friend, and she suddenly reflected that there had been a certain measure of sadness in her joy both when her manuscripts were accepted and to-day when for the first time she had gazed at herself in print.... She had had no one to rejoice with her.... She felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to Alexina. But she gave this young wife of her brother whom she knew as little as Alexina knew her, another swift suspicious glance.... No, there was nothing of Alexina's usual high and careless courtesy in that eager almost excited face. "I'd love to have your opinion.... I read very badly.... Make allowances...." "Oh, fire away. If I'd written a story and had it accepted by that magazine I'd read it from the housetops." Gora read the story well enough, and Alexina's mind did not wander even to Gathbroke. It was written in a pure direct vigorous English. A little less self-consciousness and it would have been distinguished. The story itself was built craftily; she had been coached by a clever instructor who was a successful writer of short stories himself; and it worked up to a climax of genuine drama. But this was merely the framework, the flexible technique for the real Gora. The story had not only an original point of view but it pulsed with the insurgent resentful passionate spirit of the writer. Alexina gave a little gasp as Gora finished. "Many people won't like that story," she said. "It shocks and jars and gives one's smugness a pain in the middle. But those that do like it will give you a great reputation, and after all there are a few thousand intelligent readers in the United States. How on earth did that magazine come to accept it?" Gora was staring at Alexina with an uncommonly soft expression in her opaque light eyes. She felt, indeed, as if her ego would leap through them and make a fool of her. "The editor wrote me something of what you have just said. He wanted something new--to give his conservative old subscribers a shock. Thought it would be good for them and for the magazine. You--you--have said what I should have wanted you to say if I could have thought it out.... I think I should have hated you if you had said, 'How charming!' or 'How frantically interesting!'" "Well, it's the last if not the first. Aileen will say that and mean it. I'll telephone to the bookstore the first thing Monday morning and get a copy. Now I must go. It's late." IV "Let me telephone for a taxi." Alexina laughed merrily. "You'll never believe it, but I've just thirty cents in my purse. I forgot to ask Morty for something before he left.... You see, I happened to find quite a bit in mother's desk and so I've never thought to ask him for an allowance. But I shall at once." "An allowance? But you have your own money? Or is it because the estate isn't settled? What has Morty to do with that?"