She was clasping and unclasping her hands, swaying, her eyes closed.

"I wisht to G.o.d we was back in our little flat on a Hundred and Thirty-seventh Street. We was happy then. It's your success has lost you for me. I ought to known it, but--I--I wanted things so for you and the boy. It's your success has lost you for me. Back there, not a supper we didn't eat together like clockwork, not a night we didn't take a walk or--"

"There you go again! I tell you, Millie, you're going to nag me with that once too often. Then ain't now. What you homesick for? Your poor-as-a-church-mouse days? I been pretty patient these last two years, feeling like a funeral every time I put my foot in the front door--"

"It ain't often you put it in."

"But, mark my word, you're going to nag me once too often!"

"O G.o.d! Harry, I try to keep in! I know how wild it makes you--how busy you are, but--"

"A man that's give to a woman heaven on earth like I have you! A man that started three years ago on nothing but nerve and a few dollars, and now stands on two feet, one of the biggest spectacle-producers in the business!

By Gad! you're so darn lucky it's made a loon out of you! Get out more.

Show yourself a good time. You got the means and the time. Ain't there no way to satisfy you?"

"I can't do things alone all the time, Harry. I--I'm funny that way. I ain't a woman like that, a new-fangled one that can do things without her husband. It's the nights that kill me--the nights. The--all nights sitting here alone--waiting."

"If you 'ain't learned the demands of my business by now, I'm not going over them again."

"Yes; but not all--"

"You ought to have some men to deal with. I'd like to see Mrs. Unger try to dictate to him how to run his business."

"You've left me behind, Harry. I--try to keep up, but--I can't. I ain't the woman to naturally paint my hair this way. It's my trying to keep up, Harry, with you and--and--Edwin. These clothes--I ain't right in 'em, Harry; I know that. That's why I can't stand it. The suspense. The waiting up nights. I tell you I'm going crazy. Crazy with knowing I'm left behind."

"I never told you to paint up your hair like a freak."

"I thought, Harry--the color--like hers--it might make me seem younger--"

"You thought! You're always thinking."

She stood behind him now over the couch, her hand yearning toward but not touching him.

"O G.o.d! Harry, ain't there no way I can please you no more--no way?"

"You can please me by acting like a human being and not getting me home on wild-goose chases like this."

"But I can't stand it, Harry! The quiet. n.o.body to do for. You always gone.

Edwin. The way the servants--laugh. I ain't smart enough, like some women.

I got to show it--that my heart's breaking."

"Go to matinees; go--"

"Tell me how to make myself like Alma Zitelle to you, Harry. For G.o.d's sake, tell me!"

He looked away from her, the red rising up above the rear of his collar.

"You're going to drive me crazy desperate, too, some day, on that jealousy stuff. I'm trying to do the right thing by you and hold myself in, but--there's limits."

"Harry, it--ain't jealousy. I could stand anything if I only knew. If you'd only come out with it. Not keep me sitting here night after night, when I know you--you're with her. It's the suspense, Harry, as much as anything is killing me. I could stand it, maybe, if I only knew. If I only knew!"

He sprang up, wheeling to face her across the couch.

"You mean that?"

"Harry!"

"Well, then, since you're the one wants it, since you're forcing me to it--I'll end your suspense, Millie. Yes. Let me go, Millie. There's no use trying to keep life in something that's dead. Let me go."

She stood looking at him, cheeks cased in palms, and her sagging eye-sockets seeming to darken, even as she stared.

"You--her--"

"It happens every day, Millie. Man and woman grow apart, that's all. Your own son is man enough to understand that. n.o.body to blame. Just happens."

"Harry--you mean--"

"Aw, now, Millie, it's no easier for me to say than for you to listen. I'd sooner cut off my right hand than put it up to you. Been putting it off all these months. If you hadn't nagged--led up to it, I'd have stuck it out somehow and made things miserable for both of us. It's just as well you brought it up. I--Life's life, Millie, and what you going to do about it?"

A sound escaped her like the rising moan of a gale up a flue; then she sat down against trembling that seized her and sent ripples along the iridescent sequins.

"Harry--Alma Zitelle--you mean--Harry?"

"Now what's the use going into all that, Millie? What's the difference who I mean? It happened."

"Harry, she--she's a common woman."

"We won't discuss that."

"She'll climb on you to what she wants higher up still. She won't bring you nothing but misery, Harry. I know what I'm saying; she'll--"

"You're talking about something you know nothing about--you--"

"I do. I do. You're hypnotized, Harry. It's her looks. Her dressing like a snake. Her hair. I can get mine fixed redder 'n hers, Harry. It takes a little time. Mine's only started to turn, Harry, is why it don't look right yet to you. This dress, it's from her own dressmaker. Harry--I promise you I can make myself like--her--I promise you, Harry--"

"For G.o.d's sake, Millie, don't talk like--that! It's awful! What's those things got to do with it? It's--awful!"

"They have, Harry. They have, only a man don't know it. She's a bad woman, Harry--she's got you fascinated with the way she dresses and does--"

"We won't go into that."

"We will. We will. I got the right. I don't have to let you go if I don't want to. I'm the mother of your son. I'm the wife that was good enough for you in the days when you needed her. I--"

"You can't throw that up to me, Millie. I've squared that debt."

"She'll throw you over, Harry, when I'll stand by you to the crack of doom.

Take my word for it, Harry. O G.o.d! Harry, please take my word for it!"

She closed her streaming eyes, clutching at his sleeve in a state beyond her control. "Won't you please? Please!"