"I want to find something to do."
"What sort of thing?"
"I want to get my livelihood. Will you help me?"
"There's no hurry. Some day, perhaps."
"I want it now."
"Are you anxious to leave us? To leave Dot?"
"Not Dot. I shall feel that dreadfully. And you—you are so good to me. But I cannot go on like this. I want to be independent—to make my own way; and if you would help me to find something—I don't mind what—"
"Pattie, I must ask one question. Has my wife tried to bring this about?"
"No," Pattie said at once; "I don't think so. She has not said anything lately about wishing me to go. It is my own thought."
"Not because of anything she has said or done?"