ng him up daily from a
drug-store at a near-by corner, and once he met her after dark and
they walked a few blocks together. She was still weak, but she was
spiritualized, too. He liked her a great deal that night.

"Do you know you've loaned me over a hundred dollars, Graham?" she
asked.

"That's not a loan. I owed you that."

"I'll pay it back. I'm going to start to-morrow to look for work, and it
won't cost me much to live."

"If you send it back, I'll buy you another watch!"

And, tragic as the subject was, they both laughed.

"I'd have died if I hadn't had you to think about when I was sick,
Graham. I wanted to die--except for you."

He had kissed her then, rather because he knew she expected him to. When
they got back to the house she said:

"You wouldn't care to come up?"

"I don't think I had better, Anna."

"The landlady doesn't object. There isn't any parlor. All the girls have
their callers in their rooms."

"I have to go out to-night," he said evasively. "I'll come some other
time."

As he started away he glanced back at her. She was standing in the
doorway, eying him wistfully, a lonely and depressed little figure. He
was tempted to throw discretion to the wind and go back. But he did not.

On the day when Clayton had broached the subject of offering their
output to the government at only a banker's profit, Anna called him up
at his new office in the munition plant.

He was rather annoyed. His new secretary was sitting across the desk,
and it was difficult to make his responses noncommittal.

"Graham!"

"Yes."

"Is anybody there? Can you talk?"

"Not very well."

"Then listen; I'll talk. I want to see you."

"I'm busy all day. Sorry."

"Listen, Graham, I must see you. I've something to tell you."

"All right, go ahead."

"It's about Rudolph. I was out looking for a position yesterday and I
met him."

"Yes?"

He looked up. Miss Peterson was absently scribbling on the cover of her
book, and listening intently.

"He was terrible, Graham. He accused me of all sorts of things, about
you."

He almost groaned aloud over the predicament he was in. It began to look
serious.

"Suppose I pick you up and we have dinner somewhere?"

"At the same corner?"

"Yes."

He was very irritable all morning. He felt as though a net was closing
in around him, and his actual innocence made him the more miserable.
Miss Peterson found him very difficult that day, and shed tears in her
litt