He regretted not having stopped her with words of confident cheer that would have stiffened his own resolution.

He could see her far down the street, on her way to the next lot, her narrow shoulders switching from light to shadow as she trudged under the line of eucalyptus trees.

He hoped she wouldn't give up.

No one should ever give up--least of all Merton Gill.
The days wore wearily on.

He began to feel on his own face the tired little smile of the woman in the casting office as she would look up to shake her head, often from the telephone over which she was saying: "Nothing to-day, dear.