Free Dangerous Days: by Mary Roberts Rinehart

money. It’s a small sum, isn’t it, to break up a family!”
    “Why, it’s absurd! It’s - it’s horrible, Audrey.”
    “Oh, it isn’t the money. That’s a trifle. I just had to have it quickly. And when I learned I needed it of course the banks were closed. Besides, I fancy Chris had to have all there was.”
    Clayton was puzzled and distressed. He had not liked Chris. He had hated his cynicism, his pose of indifference. His very fastidiousness had never seemed entirely genuine. And this going away and taking all Audrey’s small reserve of money -
    “Where is he?”
    “I don’t know. I believe on his way to Canada.”
    “Do you mean - “
    “Oh, no, he didn’t steal anything. He’s going to enlist in the Canadian army. Or he said so when he left.”
    “Look here, Audrey, you can’t tell me only part of the story. Do you mean to say that Chris has had a magnificent impulse and gone to fight? Or that he’s running away from something?”
    “Both,” said Audrey. “I’ll tell you this much, Clay. Chris has got himself into a scrape. I won’t tell you about that, because after all that’s his story. And I’m not asking for sympathy. If you dare to pity me I’ll cry, and I’ll never forgive you.”
    “Why didn’t he stay and face it like a man? Not leave you to face it.”
    “Because the only person it greatly concerned was myself. He didn’t want to face me. The thing that is driving me almost mad is that he may be killed over there. Not because I love him so much. I think you know how things have been. But because he went to - well, I think to reinstate himself in my esteem, to show me he’s a man, after all.”
    “Good heavens, Audrey. And you went through dinner with all this to bear!”
    “I’ve got to carry it right along, haven’t I? You know how I’ve been about this war, Clay. I’ve talked and talked about wondering how our men could stay out of it. So when the smash came, he just said he was going. He would show me there was some good stuff in him still. You see, I’ve really driven him to it, and if he’s killed - “
    A surge of resentment against the absent man rose in Clayton Spencer’s mind. How like the cynicism of Chris’s whole attitude that he should thrust the responsibility for his going onto Audrey. He had made her unhappy while he was with her, and now his death, if it occurred, would be a horror to her.
    “I don’t know why I burden you with all this,” she said, rather impatiently. “I daresay it is because I knew you’d have the money. No, I don’t mean that. I’d rather go to you in trouble than to any one else; that’s why.”
    “I hope you always will.”
    “Oh, I shall! Don’t worry.” But her attempt at gayety fell flat. She lighted a cigaret from the stand beside her and fell to studying his face.
    “What’s happened to you?” she asked. “There’s a change in you, somehow. I’ve noticed it ever since you came home. You ought to be smug and contented, if any man should. But you’re not, are you?”
    “I’m working hard. That’s all. I don’t want to talk about myself,” he added impatiently. “What about you? What are you going to do?”
    “Sell my house, pay my debts and live on my own little bit of an income.”
    “But, good heavens, Audrey! Chris has no right to cut off like this, and leave you. I don’t know the story, but at least he must support you. A man can’t just run away and evade every obligation. I think I’ll have to go after him and give him a talking to.”
    “No!” she said, bending forward. “Don’t do that. He has had a bad scare. But he’s had one decent impulse, too. Let him alone, Clay.”
    She placed the money on the stand, and rose. As she faced him, she impulsively placed her hands on his shoulders.
    “I wish I could tell you, Clay,” she said, in her low, slightly husky voice, “how very, very much I admire you. You’re pretty much of a man, you know. And - there aren’t such a lot of