"He couldn't!" "Oh, yes he could," Joe's partner growled.

"There's so much money in it!" "If he puts that through I'm done for!" Ethel told herself that night.
"His name will be a perfect joke--among all the people I want to know! And they'll all keep away from us as though he were running a yellow journal! And then her friends will crowd about--because we'll be so rich, you see! Oh, damn money! Damn! Damn!" She was lying sleepless on her bed, and Joe was sleeping by her side.
She sat up now and looked at his face in the dim light from the window.
"If you get very rich," she thought, "and middle-aged and very fat in body and soul, get to care only for building 'junk' and for going about with Amy's friends--I wonder what would I do then." Again the words of young Mrs.Grewe came up in her mind: "You can get out whenever you choose." She frowned.

"But there are the children.

And besides, I love you, Joe--yes, more than ever, and in a queer way! I'm fighting for what I love in you, but at the same time I love you all--every bit of you!" Breathing quickly now, she sank back on her pillow, and there she soon grew quiet again.

"So we'll fight it out once and for all.