that together—I'd pay it back, if something happened so you couldn't. Why haven't you paid it back, David?"
"Because I've borrowed more. I owe Mr. Fuller twenty-five thousand now."
"You mean you aren't doing well?"
"I'm doing fine; I borrowed more to give me capital to take care of more business."
"Your father," she said and he followed the way of her thought. Naturally with mention of Mr. Fuller and his ten thousand dollars, his father came to her mind. "How are you and your father now?"
David replied: "How would you suppose?"
"He's been here—in Chicago, I mean. You told me so, David, that day you phoned me—by mistake."
"Yes; he was seeing me."
"I thought there was—I had to tell from your tone, you said almost nothing to me—maybe there was special trouble."
"There was."
"Much trouble?"
"Much?" said David. "He's stopped taking money from me now."
"He has? Why?"
"He has, Alice; that's all!" David said quickly and he waited in the dark, expecting she must ask more about it; but she said: "Your father used to be against me; you remember David? Yet now I think of you finishing with your father and me at the same time. What was the time, to you, David, which was the end of me with you?"
He said: "I don't know."
