"I want to know if you've—well—I'd like to know ... just how you stand with yourself."
Her brother eyed her curiously. "What's struck you anyway?" he demanded. "What's happened to make you take on like this all of a sudden?"
"Nothing. It's not sudden. I've wanted to have this talk with you for a long time—not that it does any good ... we'll probably drag along the same old way." She sat thoughtfully silent for a moment. "I'll draw you a cheque, of course," she added listlessly. "You must pay up your debts at once. But you do worry me ..."
"Miss Wynrod?"
"What is it, Huldah?"
Roger stopped his discourse and the maid advanced with a card. Judith took it and knitted her brows as she read.
"Who is it, sis?"
"'Brent Good,'" she read, "'The Workman's World'"
"Well, he has got nerve," cried Roger. "That's that Socialist sheet, isn't it? Why, they take a crack at us once a week regular. And now they've got the gall to send a man out here. Tell him to go to the devil."
Judith turned to the maid. "Tell him that I am not at home, please, Huldah."