“I'll tell you my main errand, Sue. I've got an enormous new production on. It's in my hands, too, as director. Silverstone gives me carte blanche--that's his way. Big man. Now I've got an eye in my head. I've seen our _Nature_ run off. And I happen to know that the big movie star of to-morrow, the sensation of them all, is Miss Sue Wilde. You don't realize that, of course. All right! Don't try to. But do try to get _this_. I want you for my new production. And I can offer you more money than you ever saw in all your life. Not two thousand a week, like Mabel Wakeford, but a lot. And still you'll be cheaper to my company than women not half so good who have built up a market value in the film business. It will be a bargain for us. I brought out a contract ready for you to sign. Salary begins to-morrow if you say the word. Would you like to read it over?” Her hands were still over her eyes. She shook her head. Instead of pressing his business he went on quietly studying her. He studied the house, too; and the street. After a time he consulted a time-table and his watch. “Sue,” he said then, “I'm disappointed.” “I'm sorry, Jacob.” She looked up now and threw out her hands. “But you couldn't understand. I couldn't look at that film, at myself doing those things. It's a thing that's--well, Jacob, it is repellent to me now. It's a thing I wish I hadn't done. I thought I believed it--your theory of freedom, naturalness, all that. I don't believe it. But all the same I'm on record there. The most conspicuous girl in the United States--from what you say--' “Easily that, Sue. By to-morrow.” “--picturing a philosophy I don't believe in. I've been daring almost to forget it. Now you're bringing it home to me. It is branded on me now. God knows what it is going to mean! Of course it will follow me into my home here. And you know what people will think and say--these, people”--she indicated the orderly street with a sweep of a fine arm and hand--“they'll think and talk of me as a girl who has done what no decent girl can do and stay decent--” She stopped, choking. He was still coolly observing her. “Yes,” he said again, “I'm disappointed. I'm afraid it's just as well for you to give up. You've lost something, Sue.” He rose. And she let him go in silence; stood looking after him until he disappeared around the corner. Then she went up to her room. The children were still there, serenely happy in unheard-of mischief. They had all her dancing clothes spread out on the bed. She closed the door. The girls giggled nervously; she hardly saw them. She lifted up the Russian costume and fingered the bright-colored silk. Dreams came to her mind's eye. She looked at the little boots of red leather. “I wonder,” she murmured. “Please dance for us,” begged Miriam shyly, at her side. She hardly heard. She moved to the side of the room, then leaped out in that bounding, crouching Russian step. She was stiff, awkward. She stepped back and tried it again.