"You mean to say my husband could even consider such a plan?"
"Why not? There's money in it—big—the publicity value would be immense. It would make his name a joke of course, with every architect in town—but think of all the talk, free ads! And that means tenants pouring in—and money! Don't you like it? She would have—your sister would, I mean. It was just such a scheme on a smaller scale that made her send for me one day and tell me I could keep hands off or else get out of the office. I gave in because I couldn't go—I couldn't quite make up my mind to the fact that Joe was done for. So I stuck—and she tried to break me—again and again. But Joe, for all the change in him, had a loyal streak not only for me but for all he had once meant to do. Even still he kept saying he'd just put it off, and that when he'd got the money he'd turn back and we'd begin.
"And when his wife died, I began to have hope. The only blot on her funeral was the fact that you were there—and you told me you intended to stay. Her sister—the same story. I soon shook that off, however—for I saw the way he turned to his work as a refuge from his grief for her. I had my chance and I took it. When his mind was dull and numb I began to slip in changes. And each change meant better work and less easy money. And soon I was making headway fast; for Joe had never cared for money for himself, but only for her—and she was dead. So he let our profits go down and down, while what we did got more worth doing. It even began to take hold of him—of the old Joe that was still there.
"But after nearly a year of that, I had to laugh at myself for a fool. For Joe began wanting money again, and I knew he was thinking of marrying you. I fought, of course, and for a time I had some hope of beating you. I remembered you as you had been at the time of your sister's funeral. You had seemed so young and weak to me. But later, when you were his wife and began taking half his time, keeping late hours, draining him—for you women can drain a man, you know—then I knew that you were strong, your sister's sister. I gave in. Or I should say I took the only chance that was left. I threw over the things we had dreamed of and got him to work for money hard—harder than he'd ever done. I drove him! Why? Because I got him back that way. By making him work for money for you I began to get him away from you. In time I even got him to stay in the office late at night. I got him to keep away from you nights. And there was more than that in my scheme. For now we're making money enough to satisfy even you, I think. I'm not sure—I'm never sure—your sister taught me never to be. Perhaps you can't be satisfied. But if you can, I see a chance. Tell me how much you really need. We'll get it. And then for the love of God leave us alone before it's too late—before what's in the man is dead!"
Nourse finished and rose, looking down at her. She sat rigid, keeping herself in hand. Again and again she had been on the point of bursting out, for the sheer brutality of so much he had told her had made it very hard to sit still. But then as he had spoken of Amy, Ethel had kept silent, watching his face intensely. How much Amy must have done to have aroused such bitterness! A sense of reality in his talk, a clear and sudden consciousness of having the real Amy held up here before her eyes, had gripped Ethel like a vise. Till now she had no clear idea of how much Joe had sacrificed. But all that finer side of him, that early life, those dreams, those friends, had all been known to Amy. And Amy had been willing to lose them all, to crush them out, for money, only money, and money for such an empty life! Ethel shivered a little. Her sister's picture was complete.
"No," she said, looking up at Nourse, "I'm not going to leave you alone. What I've got to do now is to try my best to make you feel what I really want, and what a mistake you've been making. Please listen, while I try to be clear." Her expression was strained as she looked at him. She smiled a little. "I am not like my sister. I'd rather not say much about her now. She—had her good points, too—she's dead. And all you need to know is this. You were wrong about me in those first months—I was trying to get away from Joe. I had my own dreams and I wished to be free. I even tried to earn my living. I worked for a while. But the man I worked for—frightened me—and that threw me back on Joe. He was poor then, so I nursed his child and ran his home on very little. And I liked that. Believe me—please! I liked that! And I think the main reason for it was that I was falling in love, not with her husband but with the man whom you were bringing back to life. It was that in him, that kind of ambition and that kind of life and friends, that I wanted—oh, so hard! I was groping about to get them—but it's not easy in New York. And meanwhile we were married, and about that part of it you were right. I was selfish, I did want him all. I let everything go, kept everything out—especially his business. I was jealous of you as I was of his wife—of everything past—I wanted him new!
"Then my baby came, and it was a time when I did a good deal of thinking. I—thought out my sister. I saw how different we were. What she wanted I didn't want at all. So I set to work to change him—and I thought I was doing it all by myself—just as you thought you were doing it. Each of us was working alone—and we thought we were working in spite of each other—against each other. I was against you in his office, you were against me in his home. And because you hadn't any idea of what I was trying, you made him work for money for me—to buy me off! But I don't want money—alone, I mean! And when he came and said he was rich, it frightened me—I wasn't ready—I had no friends! And so the money only brought back my sister's friends in a perfect horde—and with them her memory—her influence—her husband!
"Oh, can't you understand what I mean—and how I'm placed and what it's like? Can't you believe that I want in him exactly what you want yourself? But it hasn't been easy! Don't you see? I am only a second wife! She's here—she has been—all the time—like a ghost—and we never speak her name! But if you will only work with me—"
She stopped with a quick turn of her head. They listened, and heard
Joe's key in the door. In a moment he had entered the hall.
"Hello. Who's here?" he asked at once.