“Here we are,” she went on. “I've been worn out--no good for weeks. You men are fighting each other--oh, yes, you are!--and yet we three are the ones that have got to do it. Now, Jacob, you have hinted at new expenses, new money problems, to me. I want you to say it all to Peter. Every word. Wait, please! And, Peter, you have felt that Jacob was inclined to run wild. Say it to him.” She wound up in a nervous little rush and stopped short as if a thought frightened--“And as for me, it's not a question of what I will or won't do. I'm afraid, if we don't straighten things out, it's going to be a question what I shall be able to do. We must get all this--what do you say?--'on the carpet.' Please begin!” She sank back, drew a long breath and watched them with eyes in which there was a curious nervous alertness. More than Sue could have dreamed, it was a situation made to Peter's hand. Without a moment's warning she had called on him to play, in some small degree, the hero. She had given him the chance to be more of a hero than Zanin. His very soul glowed at the thought. Given an audience, Peter could be anything. So it turned out that just as Zanin gave an odd little snort, caught squarely between impatience and pride, Peter turned on him and said, very simply: “Sue is right, Zarin. We have been knifing each other. And I'm ashamed to say that I haven't even had the sense to see that it wasn't business.” And he put out his hand. Zanin hesitated a faint fraction of a second and took it. Then Peter--sure now that he knew how the late J. P. Morgan must have felt about things, full of still wonder at himself and touched by the wistful thought that had he chosen differently in youth he might easily have become a master of men--hit on the compromise of giving full play to Zanin's genius for publicity, provided Zanin, for his part, submitted to a budget system of expenditure. “And a pretty small budget, too,” he added. “We've got to do it with brains, Zanin, as you did things at the Crossroads.” This settled, however, a silence fell. Each of the three knew that nothing had been settled. Sue, that quiet light in her eyes, watched them. Then suddenly, with her extraordinary lightness of body, she sprang to her feet. Peter, all nerves, gave a start. Zanin merely followed her with eyes.--heavy puzzled eyes. Sue picked up the tea kettle. “One of you--Peter--bring the tray!” she commanded as she went out into the dark kitchenette. Peter, with a leap almost like Sue's, followed. He could not see clearly out there, but he thought she was smiling as she set down the kettle. “Sue,” he whispered, still in the glow of his quiet heroism, “I knew I loved you, but never before today did I realize how much.” No one could have uttered the words with simpler dignity. She stood motionless, bending Over the kettle, “Something has happened to-day,” she said very low. “Sue--nothing serious!...”