"It can't do any harm," urged Agnes.
"It can't do any good," replied Mildred.
"That isn't the way to look at it."
A long pause. Then Mildred said: "If I got a place somewhere else, I'd meet the same thing in another form."
"You've got to risk that."
"Besides, I'd never have had a chance of succeeding if Mr. Ransdell hadn't taught me and stood behind me."
It was many minutes before Agnes Belloc said in a hesitating, restrained voice: "They say that success—any kind of success—has its price, and that one has to be ready to pay that price or fail."
Again the profound silence. Into it gradually penetrated the soft, insistent sound of the distant roar of New York—a cruel, clamorous, devouring sound like a demand for that price of success. Said Agnes timidly:
"Why not go to see Mr. Ransdell."
"He wouldn't make it up," said Mildred. "And I—I couldn't. I tried to marry Stanley Baird for money—and I couldn't. It would be the same way now—only more so."