“Since you press me for an answer—yes, to some extent.”

“Then why do you let that go on?”

No answer.

“Why do you let it go on?”

“Because—I can't help it.”

“Why?”

She looked up reproachfully. “That is unkind—it's not fair to press me so.”

“But all the same you are going to tell me why.”

“If you must have it, then—because my life has been smashed into pieces, and I have not the energy to start anything REAL, now. I am about fit to be a revolutionary cab-horse, and do the party's drudge-work. At least I do it conscientiously, and it must be done by somebody.”

“Certainly it must be done by somebody; but not always by the same person.”