There was another silence.  Again that dull weight of discouragement fell, and again she shook it from her.

“Nevertheless,” she said quietly, looking him full in the face, “I mean to have Crothers in our firm.”  She saw the mingled liking and compassion which came in his eyes, and she bit her lip to keep down the wave of self-pity which arose in her.

“Perhaps you will,” she heard him say.  His voice sounded a long way off.  She brought herself back to him with a jerk.

“Of course I will!  We will, I mean!  You and I are to work together, you know.  Now will you please tell me,” she continued grimly, “one person who knew my husband and who will be so very kind as not to call for the police the minute I come into view?” A moment later she started forward.  “Oh, please!” she cried.  “Do that again!  You chuckled!  Don’t deny it!  Go on and really laugh with me!” Her voice, unsteady and quivering, broke into a merry laugh, and in this Joe’s partner joined.  Then she said sternly.  “You give me a friend!”

Nourse thought for a moment.  “There’s only one left on the list,” he replied.

“His name, please—­”

“Dwight.”

“Business?”

“Music.  He shows rich girls how to sing.  She stared at him.

“But look here,” she said emphatically.  “I’m a rich girl—­I’m very well off—­and I certainly propose to sing!  I used to, in the choir at home—­and I was told I had quite a voice!  And I meant to take lessons in New York—­of a tall dark man with curly hair—­”

“Dwight,” said Nourse, “is fair and fat.”

“Never mind.  Then he probably has blue eyes.  And they twinkle at you—­in the friendliest way—­”

“Young woman, I’m your husband’s friend.”

“Never mind if you are.  You’re not enough.  I want more of his friends.  Now tell me—­where did the fat man study?  Abroad?”

“In Paris.”

“Oh!” she cried.  “Were he and Joe together there?”

“They were, for a while—­”

“Oh, how nice!” She laughed at him.  “What a dear you’ve been to me,” she said.  “You like me, don’t you!”

“Yes—­I do.”

“Quite a good deal!”

“All right,” he said.  She was watching his face.  “This is new to him,” she was thinking.

“You believe I don’t want money!”

“Yes—­”

“Nor friends like Amy’s!”

“You don’t seem to.”

“And I don’t.  I want friends like you and this Mr. Dwight—­and that odious Sally Crothers who won’t even let me in at her door.  And her husband—­yes, he’ll do.  Why how the circle widens!”

“So far,” Nourse reminded her, “I’m the only circle you’ve got.”

“Yes, and a very nice one.  And now you’re going to be a dear, and go to this man Dwight and say what a remarkable voice I have—­and tell him all my other points, and the hole I’m in and the money I have.  Don’t forget that—­the money I have—­for my acquaintance with Mr. Dwight leads me to believe that wealth is a great inducement with him.  It makes his blue eyes twinkle so.”