y'll take it away tonight. Every
stick. I've cried so! I tried to explain that I'm actually rehearsing
with Cunningham. Before the end of the month I can take care of it
easily. But--” Hy stopped short, stood on the curb, looked at her. His
head was clear and cold as an adding machine. “How much would it take?”
 said he.

“Oh, Hy.” She was crying again. “Don't talk in that way--so cold--”

“I know,” he broke in, “but--”

“It's fifty dollars. You see--”

“I haven't got it,” said he.

There was a perceptible ring in his voice. She looked at him, puzzled.

“Silvia, dear--I'm fired.”

“Fired? Hy--when?”

“To-day. Chucked out. I haven't got half of that--to live on, even.”

“Oh, my dear boy, you oughtn't to live in this careless way, not saving
a cent--”

“Of course I oughtn't. But I do. That's me.”

“But what on earth--what reason--”

“Conduct. I'm a bad one.” He was almost triumphant. “Only last night
I was seen leaving a questionable restaurant--where they dance and
drink--with a young lady--”

The tears were not falling now. Miss Silvia So-rana was looking straight
at him, thoughtful, even cool.

“Are you telling me the truth, Hy Lowe?”

“The gospel. I'm not even the proletariat. I'm the unemployed.”

“Well,” said she--“well!” And she thought it deliberately out. “Well--I
guess you can't be blamed for that!”

Which impressed Hy later when he thought it over, as a curious remark.
They parted shortly after this.

But first she said, “Hy, dear, I don't like to seem to be leaving you
on account of this. It must be dreadfully hard for you.” So they had a
soda, sitting in the drug store window. Hy almost smiled, thinking of
the madness of it--he and an unmistakable actress, in working hours,
here actually in the shadow of grim old Scripture House! And it was
nobody's business! It could hurt nobody! He had not known that freedom
would be like this. There was a thrill about it; so deep a thrill that
after he had put the sympathetic but p