She had eluded him. She had also eluded Peter. Zanin was capable of despising young women who talked freedom but were afraid to live it. There were such; right here in the Village there were such. But he did not think Sue's case so simple as that. He spoke out now: “Been thinking you over, Sue.” She deposited the ash of her cigarette on a plate, glanced gravely up at him, then lowered her eyes again. “Any result, Jacob?” “You haven't found yourself.” “That's right,” said she, “I haven't. Have you found me?” He slowly shook his head. “I think you're doomed to grope for a while longer. I believe you have a good deal to find--more than some. You remember a while back when I urged you to take a trip with me?” She did not lift her eyes at this; merely gazed thoughtfully down at her cigarette. He went on: “I thought I could help you. I thought you needed love. It seemed to be the next thing for you.” “Yes,” said she rather shortly--“you told me that.” “Well, I was wrong. Or my methods were. Something, I or some force, stirred you and to a bad result. You turned from me toward marriage. That plan was worse.” She seemed about to protest; looked up now, threw out her hands. “At least,” he pressed on, “as a plan, it didn't carry.” Her fine brows drew together perceptibly. “That's over, Jacob.” “All right.” He settled back in his chair and looked about the lung room. It was filling rapidly. There were long hair and flowing ties, evening suits, smart gowns, bright lights, gay talk in two tongues, and just now, music. “Tell me this much, Sue. What are you up to? There's no more Crossroads, no more Nature Film--lord, but that was a job! No more of that absurd engagement. This is why I dragged you out to-night. I'm wondering about you. What are you doing?” “Jacob,” she said, “I'm drifting.” “I heard you were trying to write.” “Trying--yes! A girl has to appear to be doing something.” “No plans at all, eh?” She met this with silent assent. Again he looked about the sprightly room; deliberately thinking. Once she glanced up at him; then waited. “Sue,” he said, “I think I see you a little more clearly. If I'm wrong, correct me. You have an unusual amount of strength--or something. I don't know what it is. I'll fall back on the safe old word, personality. You've got plenty of intelligence. And your stage work, your dancing--you're gifted as all get-out. But you're like clockwork, you're no good unless your mainspring is working. You have to be wound up.” For the first time in this talk Sue's green-brown eyes lighted. She leaned over the table now and spoke with a flash of feeling. “That's it, I believe,” she said. “I've got to feel deeply--about something. I've got to have a religion.”