it just the same. As it is, you
were false to me--"

"Only that once, Claude!"

"And if you want me to have mercy on you, you'll have to tell me
everything that happened--the very worst."

"The worst that happened was then."

"Then? When? There were so many times."

"But the other times he didn't say anything at all. He just came. I
never dreamt--"

"But if you had dreamt, you would have played another sort of hand. Now,
wouldn't you?"

"Claude, if you only knew! If you could only imagine what it is to have
nothing at all!--to have to live and fight and scrimp and save!--and no
one to help you!--and your brother in jail!--and coming out!--coming
out, Claude!--and no one to help _him_!--and everything on you--!"

"That's got nothing to do with it, Rosie--"

"It _has_ got something to do with it. It's got everything to do with
it. If it hadn't, do you think that I'd have said that I'd marry him?"

Claude felt like a man who knows he's been shot, but as yet is
unconscious of the wound. He spoke quietly: "I think I wouldn't have
said that I'd marry two men at the same time, and play one off against
the other."

There was exasperation in her voice as she cried: "But how could I help
it, Claude? Can't you _see_? It wasn't _him_."

"Oh, I can see that well enough. But do you think it makes it any
better?"

"It makes it better if I never would have done it unless I'd been
obliged to."

"But you'd have _done_ it--"

"No, Claude, I wouldn't--not when it came to the point."

"But why didn't it come to the point? Since you told him you were
willing to marry him, why--?"

She implored him. "Oh, what's the use of asking me that, if he's told
you already?"

"It's this use, Rosie, that I want to hear it from yourself. You've told
me one lie--"

"Oh, Claude!"

"And I want to see if you'll tell me any more."

"I didn't mean it to be a lie, Claude; but what could I say?"

"When we don't mean a thing to be a lie, Rosie, we tell the truth."

"But how _could_ I!"

"Well, perhaps you couldn't; but you can now. You can tell me just what
happened--and why more didn't happen, since you were willing that it
should."

She began with difficulty, wringing her hands. "It was last January--I
think it was January--yes, it was--one evening--I was in the other
hothouse making out bills--and he came all of a sudden--and he asked
me--he asked me--"

"Yes, yes; go on."

"He asked me if I loved you, and I said I did. A