Zora's eyes filled with tears. She saw that her lack of appreciation had
hurt him to the heart. She was a generous woman, and did not convict him,
as she would have done another man, of blatant vulgarity. Yet she felt
preposterously pained. Why could not this great, single-minded creature,
with ideas as high as they were queer, perceive the board's rank
abomination?

"It's unworthy of you," she said bravely. "I want everyone to respect you
as I do. You see the Cure isn't everything. There's a man behind it."

"That's the object of the board," said Sypher. "To show the man."

"But it doesn't show the chivalrous gentleman that I think you are," she
replied quickly. "It gives the impression of some one quite different--a
horrid creature who would sell his self-respect for money. Oh, don't you
understand? It's as bad as walking through the streets with 'Sypher's Cure'
painted on your hat."

"What can I do about it?" he asked.

"Take it down at once," said Zora.

"But to exhibit the board was my sole reason for buying the place."

"I'm very sorry," she said gently, "but I can't change my opinion."

He cast a lingering glance at the board, and then turned. "Let us go back
to the house," he said.