shivery."

She knelt on, watching the little flames grow into big flames, and
spreading her hands to the warmth. Her face, arms, throat, and the front
of her white dress became golden. She looked more like some lovely
vestal of fire-worship than an ambitious American girl, determined to
achieve fame in the battleground of the world.

"Why, yes," she repeated, "it has seemed strange to me. When I've
thought that I wanted to do things, you always took a lot of interest
and trouble, but when I _knew_ that I wanted to do one thing, you gave
me a dreadfully cold shoulder." She smiled whimsically. "I shall do an
allegory in bluish-white marble--The Cold Shoulder."

She retreated a little from the fire, and sat at her father's feet. He
laid his hand on her many-colored hair.

From childhood Barbara had resented parental caresses. On the present
occasion, she felt a sudden tenderness for her father, and leaned a
little against him, in answer to the touch of his hand.

"Did it ever," said he, "strike you as strange that you never took any
interest in _my_ career?"

"I've always been tremendously proud of you," she said. "You know that."

"You liked my results," he said, "the show pieces--newspaper
notoriety--speech-making--the races in special trains against death.
But you don't even know what has chiefly interested me during the last
thirty years; nor the goal which I have felt I must reach before I could
be resigned to parting with this life."

"No," she said gently, "I don't. Tell me. I _want_ to be interested."

"You know, of course, that I experiment with animals."

"Yes. I have seen crates of guinea-pigs and monkeys at the laboratory
door. I'm afraid it always made me a little unhappy. But I suppose it's
the only way to get certain results. And you always give them something,
don't you?"

"Always. They don't suffer more than a man would while healing a deep
clean cut. In other words, they don't suffer at all. And they're not
unhappy, and they don't bear malice. And still I wouldn't do it, if I
could help myself. I think, my dear, that I have been chosen for my sins
to introduce a great benefit to mankind. It seems now only a question of
perfecting the technique. I've already had extraordinary results."

"What's the idea?"

"You know, of course, that a piece of skin from one man can be
successfully grafted on another man. Well, so can a liver, a finger, a
hand, a foot, an arm, a leg. I have two monkeys now: a