“Of course not,” said she. “But listen! You don't know what you've done. Do you suppose I've been looking forward to this job--making myself sensationally conspicuous, working with commercial-minded people? Oh, how I've dreaded that side of it! And worrying all the time because the scenario wasn't good. It just wasn't. It wasn't real people, feeling and living; it was ideas--nothing but ideas--stalking around. That's Zanin, of course. He's a big man, he has got the ideas, but he hasn't got _people_, quite; he just doesn't understand women,... Don't you see,” she threw out her hands--“the only reason, the only excuse, really, for going through with this ordeal is to help make people everywhere understand Truth. And I've known--it's been discouraging--that we couldn't possibly do that unless it was clearly expressed for us.... Now do you see what you've done? It's _that!_ And it's pretty exciting.” “Zanin may not take it this way.” “Oh, he will! He'll have to. It means so much to him. That man has lost everything at the Crossroads, you know. And now he is staking all he has left--his intelligence, his strength, his courage, on this. It means literally everything to him.” Peter stared at her. “And what do you suppose it means to me!” “Why--I don't know, of course...” Peter strode to the desk, unlocked the middle drawer next the wall, drew out the six little bank books, and almost threw them into her lap. “Look at those,” he said--“all of them!” “Why--” she hesitated. “Go through them, please! Add them up.” Half smiling, she did so. Then said: “It seems to come to almost seven thousand dollars.” “That's the money that's going to work out your dream.” She glanced up at him, then down at the books. “It's all I've got in the world--all--all! That, and the three per cent, it brings in. My play--they're going to produce it in the fall. You won't like it. It's the old ideas, the old Broadway stuff.” “But you've changed.” “Yes. Since I wrote it. It doesn't matter. It may bring money, it may not. Likely not. Ninety per cent, of 'em fail, you know. This is all I've got--every cent All my energy and what courage I've got goes after it--into The Nature Film Producing Company. Please understand that! I'm leading up to something.” She looked a thought disturbed. He rushed on. “Zanin's got it into his head that he's going to take you south to do all the outdoor scenes.” “I haven't agreed to that. He feels that it's necessary.” “Yes, he does. He's sincere enough. Remember, I'm talking impersonally. As I told you, we've got to be businesslike--and frank. We've got to!” “Of course,” said she. “I'm beginning to see that Zanin is just as much of a hero with other people's money as he is with his own.” “That goes with the temperament, I suppose.” “Undoubtedly. But now, see! That trip south--taking actors and camera man and outfit--staying around at hotels--railway fares--it will cost a fortune.”