“I don’t want you to talk that way to me!” flashed Polly, swift tears in her eyes. “No, no—don’t—don’t! It wasn’t right for me to make fun of you—I ought to have known you were different. I came home last night, and I talked about you to my partner. Somehow, I don’t know why, you seem like a preacher to me. Besides, once in a while a woman sees something in a real man that gets close to her.” She rose now and spread out her arms, a very beautiful vision of young womanhood, a sort of fair frailness about her after all, in spite of her eager vitality and her overflowing joy in life. “Why, listen,” said she. “I know about men. You needn’t make any map to explain anything more to me. You’d be foolish, you’d be crazy; and I’ll not have it. I’m not good enough for you. You mustn’t stay here. You mustn’t be foolish over a girl like me—I’m not worth it. I’m—I’m notgood!” She slurred the last two words hurriedly together. “Get on out of here before you’re spoiled.” Her voice trembled. “The city will get you, some time. It’s got me. It’s got my partner. We’re gone. Lost souls! You? Oh, don’t, _don’t_! You haven’t gone the gait that we have. Listen to me now—I think enough of a good square chap not to want to see him go the wrong way. Can’t you see that a dancing girl can be a good pal after all? I’m trying to _help_ you.” “Easy!” said he, his voice trembling in his own self-scorn. “I had nothin’, only what ye taken away from me.” “Take some of this, won’t you?” said Polly Pendleton, her doubled hands full of bills which she held out to him, her dark eyes shining. “Here, take it. Do something with it. You wouldn’t call that tainted money, would you?... It isn’t tainted yet. Look!” But he put back her hands. “No,” said he. “My God! No! From ye?” He hurt her, because she wholly mistook his real meaning. Her face fell, but she shook her head bravely, like a fighter taking a blow in the ring. “Ye never cared,” he added; “ye don’t feel—ye don’t care.” The low notes of his voice rumbled through the little room. An odd feeling of helplessness seized her all at once. “It’s a good thing for you, I don’t,” said she at length. “Don’t I know men are fools enough without making another fool to add to the list? If I cared—good God, if I _cared_! Why, I don’t _dare_ care for anybody. Now, don’t you think you’d better be going?” She had his hat in her hand, and was replacing the violin and bow. He rose and stood before her, his hands clenched tight, his eyes still burning, his voice vibrant. “Ma’am,” said he, “I nuvver seen ye but once. Maybe I nuvver will agin. But I’ll al-_ways_remember what ye said to me.” “What do you mean?” “I was hopin’ ye’d say it would be a good piece of business fer me to stay here this winter fer a while. I was hopin’ I could see ye an’ hear ye play some time, now an’ then. I was hopin’—I was hopin’ what I ortern’t to hope. Ma’am, I nuvver seen no womern like ye in all my life. I reckon I nuvver will agin.”