Mr. Bigelow took up the letter again and regarded it closely. A great many thoughts apparently were passing through his mind--thoughts not of Kentucky Coal and New Freighters, but of a stately suburban home of granite completed within the year; of a certain Mrs. Bigelow who was rising rapidly toward the social leadership of her suburb, and was carrying Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow into circles that he, with all his prestige of a sort, could hardly have penetrated alone; of a certain dignified, comfortable, downright conservative suburban church, where the Bigelow money and judgment, new as they were in such surroundings, were undoubtedly earning a place; and, lastly, of certain small Bigelows. Of all these things thought Mr. Bigelow. “Well,” he said at length, without raising his eyes, “what is it now? What do you want?” “If I had only myself to think of,” began the woman, speaking in a low voice and with noticeable effort, “I should never come near you. But I _have_ others to think of, and I think you have, too. I have not come for money. If I could do it, I should like to bring every cent you have given me and throw it in your face.” Rather unpleasant words these--unpleasant to Mr. Bigelow, at least. Indeed, they seemed quite to disturb him, to drive him even toward something that in a man of smaller reputation might have been called brutality. “See here,” he burst out, wheeling around, “how long is this going to keep up? How many years more must I support you in idleness? There is a limit to this sort of thing.” It may be that this was not so much brutality as sagacity. It may be that Mr. Bigelow had in mind certain steps that might relieve him from a situation which was growing more and more annoying and disagreeable, and that this was one of the steps. For such words as these--such a blaze of righteous anger--should be very hard to answer in a man's own office; hard at least for an unknown woman before the great G. Hyde Bigelow. Even if the woman had come with vague notions that she was acting within her rights, that the law which had severed her life from the life of this man so long ago would support her now--what was she, after all, but an unfortunate woman standing before a great man? But there was a curious expression in her eyes: perhaps she was more resolute than he supposed; perhaps simply she had reached a point in wretchedness where such words fail of an impression. “When I told you I should never come to your office, I did not know how you would take advantage of me. I should not have come even now if I could have helped it. I don't know if it will interest you to hear that I have not had enough to eat this week.”