pride and passion, crushed her in his arms and caressed
her with the frenzy that had always terrified her. She resisted only
faintly, was almost passive. "She is mine!" he said to himself,
exultantly. "She is really mine!"

* * * * *

When he awoke in the morning she was still asleep--looked like a tired
lovely child. Several times, while he was dressing, he went in to feast
his eyes upon her beauty. How could he possibly have thought her homely,
in whatever moment of less beauty or charm she might have had? The
crowning charm of infinite variety! She had a delightfully sweet
disposition. He was not sure how much or how little intelligence she
had--probably more than most women. But what did that matter? It would
be impossible ever to grow weary or to be anything but infatuated lover
when she had such changeful beauty.

He kissed her lightly on her thick braids, as he was about to go. He
left a note explaining that he did not wish to disturb her and that it
was necessary for him to be at the office earlier. And that morning in
all New York no man left his home for the day's struggle for dollars
with a freer or happier heart, or readier to play the game boldly,
skillfully, with success.

Certainly he needed all his courage and all his skill.

To most of the people who live in New York and elsewhere throughout the
country--or the world, for that matter--an income of a thousand dollars
a month seems extremely comfortable, to say the least of it. The average
American family of five has to scrape along on about half that sum a
year. But among the comfortable classes in New York--and perhaps in one
or two other cities--a thousand dollars a month is literally genteel
poverty. To people accustomed to what is called luxury nowadays--people
with the habit of the private carriage, the private automobile, and
several servants--to such people a thousand dollars a month is an absurd
little sum. It would not pay for the food alone. It would not buy for a
man and his wife, with no children, clothing enough to enable them to
make a decent appearance.

Norman, living alone and living very quietly indeed, might have got
along for a while on that sum, if he had taken much thought about
expenditures, had persisted in such severe economies as using street
cars instead of taxicabs and drinking whisky at dinner instead of his
customary quart of six-dollar champagne. Norman, the married man, could
not escap