"I don't want to go, mother."
"Neither do I, Don; so I'm going."
"Why should we go? It's nothing to us."
"It's everything to Miss Julia—and it's everything to us, Don. Stop to think and you will realize what I mean. We can't run away under fire."
"There's something in that," he rejoined after a time, slowly. "Besides, what Miss Julia wishes we both ought to do."
Hands in pockets, he began once more gloomily to pace up and down the narrow room. "I can't stand this much longer, mother," said he. "I've got to get out—I've got to get hold of some money somehow."
"Yes," said she. "As for me, I have collected the last money due me—it went for your graduation suit. I don't know how you saved your railway fare home. I didn't want you to know these things, of course, but as things have happened, you had to know. A great many things today—well, they've gotten away from me."
"It's I who have spoiled everything, too. But how could I help it—I just couldn't submit."
"It's hard to submit, Don," said she slowly. "Perhaps a man ought not to learn it. A woman has to learn it."
He turned to look at her wonderingly, and at length went over and put a hand on her shoulder.