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I don't intend only
to profit by their misfortunes."
She had hardly listened.
"Then, if we get into it, as you say, you'll encourage Graham to go?"
"I shall allow him to go, if he feels it his duty."
"Oh, duty, duty! I'm sick of the word." She bent forward and
suddenly caught one of his hands. "You won't make him go, Clay?"
she begged. You - you'll let him make his own decision?"
"If you will."
"What do you mean?"
"If you'll keep your hands off, too. We're not in it, yet. God
knows I hope we won't be. But if I promise not to influence him,
you must do the same thing."
"I haven't any more influence over Graham than that," she said, and
snapped her finger. But she did not look at him.
"Promise," he said, steadily.
"Oh, all right." Her voice and face were sulky. She looked much as
Graham had that evening at the table.
"Is that a promise?"
"Good heavens, do you want me to swear to it?"
"I want you to play fair. That's all."
She leaned back again among her pillows and gathered her papers.


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