vilised too soon. This underworld is not for us."

She paused and began again.

"I hate it! I hate this horrible canvas! I hate it more than--more than
the worst that can happen. It hurts my fingers to touch it. It is
horrible to the skin. And the women I work with day after day! I lie
awake at nights and think how I may be growing like them...."

She stopped. "I _am_ growing like them," she cried passionately.

Denton stared at her distress. "But--" he said and stopped.

"You don't understand. What have I? What have I to save me? _You_ can
fight. Fighting is man's work. But women--women are different.... I have
thought it all out, I have done nothing but think night and day. Look at
the colour of my face! I cannot go on. I cannot endure this life.... I
cannot endure it."

She stopped. She hesitated.

"You do not know all," she said abruptly, and for an instant her lips
had a bitter smile. "I have been asked to leave you."

"Leave me!"

She made no answer save an affirmative movement of the head.

Denton stood up sharply. They stared at one another through a long
silence.

Suddenly she turned herself about, and flung face downward upon their
canvas bed. She did not sob, she made no sound. She lay still upon her
face. After a vast, distressful void her shoulders heaved and she began
to weep silently.

"Elizabeth!" he whispered--"Elizabeth!"

Very softly he sat down beside her, bent down, put his arm across her in
a doubtful caress, seeking vainly for some clue to this intolerable
situation.

"Elizabeth," he whispered in her ear.

She thrust him from her with her hand. "I cannot bear a child to be a
slave!" and broke out into loud and bitter weeping.

Denton's face changed--became blank dismay. Presently he slipped from
the bed and stood on his feet. All the complacency had vanished from his
face, had given place to impotent rage. He began to rave and curse at
the intolerable forces which pressed upon him, at all the accidents and
hot desires and heedlessness that mock the life of man. His little voice
rose in that little room, and he shook his fist, this animalcule of the
earth, at all that environed him about, at the millions about him, at
his past and future and all the insensate vastness of the overwhelming
city.

V--BINDON INTERVENES

In Bindon's younger days he had dabbled in speculation and made three
brilliant flukes. For the rest of his life he had the wisdom to let
gambling alone, and t