Her flush deepened. "Money! I never want to hear the word again. Haven't you had enough to do with just 'money,' Archie?" "Not on your life," he said doggedly. "I've got to make a heap of it before I'm through. Fifteen thousand dollars!--That reminds me," he went on in another tone. "You say they need able-bodied men over there--don't they need women, too? D'you suppose your friend Nikolai could find something for you to do in that unit of his?" He caught the sudden gleam in her eye. "That would please you, wouldn't it?" he said quietly. "Of course it would mean hard work, dangerous work, too, perhaps--but it's a great chance for you, for anybody! To sort of help make history.... Mr. Nikolai was talkin' to us once about those two kinds of happiness, Hüttengluck and Heldengluck--remember? Well, I don't believe you're the sort to be satisfied with any Hüttengluck--nor I wouldn't want you to be. Take your chance, Joan--and don't lose it." His voice shook a little. "I'd like mighty well to have somebody of my name mixed up in this war somehow!" She put her hand on his--almost her first demonstration of tenderness since the shock came; but the gleam had already died out of her eyes. "That's dear of you, Archie--fine and generous. But if your place is here, mine is, too. I am not going to desert you. How can you think such a thing? I mean to be a better wife to you than I have been. We've got to start again, and start right. I want to help you...." And then inexplicably, unbelievably, the worm turned. His nerves had strained too far. He shook off her hand as if it burned him. "Help!" he said roughly. "Help? A hell of a lot of help _you_ are! Going around like a martyr, with a don't touch-me, how-dare-you look on your face, as if I'd done the thing just to spite you! My God! A woman with any guts to her--" "_Archie!_" "Oh, yes, that shocks you--such a fine lady as you are," He seemed to be working himself up, like a woman in hysterics. "So grandly indifferent to money, too!--just so's you've got enough of it. Who spent the money, anyway?--tell me that! Was it me, who haven't bought myself so much as a new pair of pants in three years?" She stared at him, mutely. "_So this_," she thought, "_is the real man!_" His ears, his great, coarse hands--they meant something after all. Her white look drove him into a further frenzy. "Oh, yes, glare at me, if I'm good enough for you to glare at!--Let me tell you something--if it's on my account you're staying, you needn't. That's all! It's a _wife_ a man wants at a time like this, not any marble image, not any tragedy-queen! Not any noble character that watches him out of the corner of her eye, and if he's real good--pats him on the hand! I've had enough of that!--Go on with your friend Nikolai," he cried violently. "Try him out for six months or a year, and if he suits, and you don't want to come back here--by God, you needn't!"