They walked a little way in silence. As they passed by the shrubbery at the
side of the house, he gravely pushed aside a wet, hanging branch for her to
proceed dry. Then he joined her again.

"You are angry with me for speaking so," said Zora.

He stopped and looked at her, his eyes bright and clear. "Do you think I'm
a born fool? Do you think I can't tell loyalty when I see it, and am such
an ass as not to prize it above all things? It cost you a lot to say that
to me. You're right. I suppose I've lost sense of myself in the Cure. When
I think of it, I seem just to be the machine that is distributing it over
the earth. And that, too, I suppose, is why I want you. The board is an
abomination that cries to heaven. It shall be instantly removed. There!"

He held out his hand. She gave him hers and he pressed it warmly.

"Are you going to give up the house now that it's useless?" she asked.

"Do you wish me to?"

"What have I to do with it?"

"Zora Middlemist," said he, "I'm a superstitious man in some things. You
have everything to do with my success. Sooner than forfeit your respect I
would set fire to every stick I possessed. I would give up everything I had
in the world except my faith in the Cure."

"Wouldn't you give up that--if it were necessary so as to keep my respect?"
she asked, prompted by the insane devil that lurks in the heart of even the
most sainted of women and does not like its gracious habitat to be reckoned