“Chang, how _can_ I live through it?” she cried despondently. “You say you’ve got lots of tastes, all expensive. So--marry him.” “He’s really very good-looking,” pursued Rix, watching him out of the corners of her eyes. “And he dresses beautifully--has everything just right. There isn’t a thing against him--except--” And there she halted, as if she were not quite certain whether after all there was a positive objection to the man. “Except--what?” inquired he, impatient at the long pause at the most exciting point in the recital. She secretly delighted in the success of her ruse. But she said plaintively: “Oh, you’re not interested. You’re not listening.” “I’m sure you’re catching a hideous cold. Of all the absurd, silly performances----” “Now, don’t lecture on health. I simply can’t stand it. As I was about to say when you interrupted me----” “I didn’t interrupt you,” protested he. “Not paying attention is interrupting,” said she. “Anyhow, you’re interrupting now. What I want to say is, the only thing against him is that I don’t love him.” This seemed to cheer the big, dark, young man. With a certain gayety he replied: “But you soon will. You’ve been well brought up, haven’t you? Well, that means you are--just girl--ready to be whatever your husband chooses to make of you.” “That’s true of most girls, Chang”--he winced each time she gave him that name--“but it isn’t true of me--at least, not any more. You’ve put all sorts of ideas into my head.” He started back in dismay before her accusing, reproachful face, so sad, so serious. “_I?_ Put ideas into your head? Why, you were buzzing and boiling with ’em the first time I saw you.” “But they didn’t amount to anything until you----” “That’s like a woman!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Trying to shift responsibility to some one else.” “But you have a tremendous influence over me.” “Rubbish! Have I ever tried to get influence over you?” “I don’t know how you got it,” was her maddeningly feminine evasion. He gave a kind of snort. “Next thing you’ll be accusing me of advising you not to marry this rich man you’re engaged to.” “Not quite engaged,” corrected she. “He wants me to be. And,” she went on with meek obstinacy, “while you didn’t advise me against it in so many words----” “Now, Rix,” he almost shouted, pointing his finger at her, “you stop right there!” “Please, Chang--come in out of the rain. And don’t talk so loud; it makes me nervous. I’m almost hysterical as it is.” He looked at her in terror. All that would be needed completely to upset him would be for her to have hysterics. He moved nearer her, went on in a soothing, persuasive tone: “I advised you to marry him. I showed you it’s the only thing for you to do.” “And such talk was unworthy of you,” said she, like a rebuking angel. “You didn’t really mean it. You know _you_ wouldn’t stoop to do such a thing yourself.”