“Oh, she does know, of course.  If she didn’t I wouldn’t feel as I do, but we’ve never actually mentioned it.  I’ve got to prove myself, understand?  It came to me of a sudden, struck me all in a heap, I can tell you.  I saw what a fool I’d made of myself.  What a damnable thing chance is, anyhow!  It makes you, breaks you; carries you along and leaves you stranded finally, then sweeps you on again.  Fortunately, she’s big enough to understand and make allowances.  If she weren’t, I’d die.  I wouldn’t want to live and not make good.  It’s ecstasy and it’s—­pain.  I’m frightened, too, at my own unworthiness—­” Abruptly the speaker’s voice ceased and he bowed his head.

’Poleon wet his dry lips and essayed to speak, but he could find nothing to say.  Of course Rouletta was big enough to understand and make allowance for any human shortcomings.  She was the sanest, the most liberal, the most charitable of girls.  And it was true, too, that love came unbidden.  He had learned that, to his cost.  It was pretty hard to stand quietly and lend a sympathetic ear to this lucky devil; it took an effort to maintain a smile, to keep a friendly gaze fixed upon Phillips’ face.  The big fellow was growing weary of forever fighting himself.  It would be a relief to get away and to yield to his misery.

But with a lover’s fatuous absorption in his own affairs Pierce resumed:  “I’ve been thinking lately how I came to this country looking for Life, the big adventure.  Everything that happened, good or bad, was part of a stage play.  I’ve been two people in one—­the fellow who did things and the fellow who looked on and applauded—­actor and audience.  It was tremendously interesting in an unreal sort of way, and I jotted everything down mentally.  I was stocking up with experience.  Understand?  Well, the whole thing has suddenly become very different.  I’m not in the gallery now, not in the theater at all, not acting.  And I thank God for it.  I don’t imagine that I make myself plain in the least—­”

Evidently he had not; evidently, too, his auditor’s mind had strayed slightly, for the latter said: 

“I s’pose you t’inkin’ all at once ’bout gettin’—­marry, eh?”

Phillips paled; he uttered a panicky denial.  “Not yet!  Oh no—!  That is, I’ve thought about it a good deal—­can’t think of anything else—­but it’s too early yet.  I’m in no position; I must make good first.”

“For why it’s too early?  Mebbe dis gal goin’ tak’ lot of fun in he’p you mak’ good.”

“I wonder—­”

“Sure t’ing.  All women is lak dat.  You goin’ t’ink of her after dis, not yourse’f.  She’s got money—­”

“Oh yes.  That makes it hard, still—­”

“Wal, you ain’t broke, my frien’, not wit’ half interes’ in Discovery on Frenchman’ Hill.”

“Once and for all,” Pierce protested, in extreme agitation, “I tell you I won’t take it.  My Lord! that’s generous!  You’re a princely fellow, Doret, but—­the most you can give me is a job.  Work?  Yes, I’ll eat that up.”