Emmy shrugged her shoulders, and looked out of the window. There was a
block of flats over the way, and a young woman at a window immediately
opposite was also looking out. This irritated her. She resented being
stared at by a young woman in a flat. She left the window and sat on the
sofa.

"Don't you think, Zora, you might let Septimus and myself arrange things as
we think best? I assure you we are quite capable of looking after
ourselves. We meet in the friendliest way possible, but we have decided to
occupy separate houses. It's a matter that concerns ourselves entirely."

Zora was prepared for this attitude, which she had resolved not to
countenance. She had come, in all her bravery, to bring Emmy to her senses.
Emmy should be brought. She left the bassinette and sat down near her
sister and smiled indulgently.

"My dearest child, if you were so-called 'advanced people' and held all
sorts of outrageous views, I might understand you. But you are two very
ordinary folk with no views at all. You never had any in your life, and if
Septimus had one he would be so terribly afraid of it that he would chain
it up. I'm quite certain you married without any idea save that of sticking
together. Now, why haven't you?"

"I make Septimus miserable. I can't help it. Sooner than make him unhappy I
insist upon this arrangement. There!"

"Then I think you are very wicked and heartless and selfish," said Zora.

"I am," said Emmy defiantly.

"Your duty is to make him happy. It would take so little to do that. You
ought to give him a comfortable home and teach him to realize his
responsibilities toward the child."

Again the stab. Emmy's nerve began to give way. For the first time came the
wild notion of facing Zora with the whole disastrous story. She dismissed
it as crazy.

"I tell you things can't be altered."

"But why? I can't imagine you so monstrous. Give me your confidence,
darling."

"There's nothing to give."

"I'm sure I could put things right for you at once if I knew what was
wrong. If it's anything to do with Septimus," she added in her unwisdom and
with a charming proprietary smile, "why, I can make him do whatever I
like."

"Even if we had quarreled," cried Emmy, losing control of her prudence, "do
you suppose I would let _you_ bring him back to me?"

"But why not?"

"Have you been so blind all this time as not to see?"

Emmy knew her words were vain and dangerous, but the attitude of her
sister, cal