registrations and arrange for those hearings. I'll do my best to save
you. I'll bring the girl in here and keep her at work until you get out
of the way."

Tetlow glanced at his friend; then the tears came into his eyes. "You're
a hell of a friend!" he ejaculated. "And I thought you'd sympathize
because you were in love."

"I do sympathize, Billy," Norman replied with an abrupt change to
shamefaced apology. "I sympathize more than you know. I feel like a dog,
doing this. But it can't result in any harm, and I want you to get a
little fresh air in that hot brain of yours before you commit yourself.
Be reasonable, old man. Suppose you rushed ahead and proposed--and she
accepted--and then, after a few days, you came to. What about her? You
must act on the level, Tetlow. Do the fair thing by yourself and by
her."

Norman had often had occasion to feel proud of the ingenuity and
resourcefulness of his brain. He had never been quite so proud as he was
when he finished that speech. It pacified Tetlow; it lightened his own
sense of guilt; it gave him a respite.

Tetlow rewarded Norman with the look that in New York is the equivalent
of the handclasp friend seeks from friend in times of stress. "You're
right, Fred. I'm much obliged to you. I haven't been considering _her_
side of it enough. A man ought always to think of that. The women--poor
things--have a hard enough time to get on, at best."

Norman's smile was characteristically cynical. Sentimentality amused
him. "I doubt if there are more female wrecks than male wrecks scattered