"Well," began Gordon unsteadily, "I got back from France in February,
went home to Harrisburg for a month, and then came down to New York to
get a job. I got one--with an export company. They fired me
yesterday."

"Fired you?"

"I'm coming to that, Phil. I want to tell you frankly. You're about
the only man I can turn to in a matter like this. You won't mind if I
just tell you frankly, will you, Phil?"

Dean stiffened a bit more. The pats he was bestowing on his knees grew
perfunctory. He felt vaguely that he was being unfairly saddled with
responsibility; he was not even sure he wanted to be told. Though
never surprised at finding Gordon Sterrett in mild difficulty, there
was something in this present misery that repelled him and hardened
him, even though it excited his curiosity.

"Go on."

"It's a girl."

"Hm." Dean resolved that nothing was going to spoil his trip. If
Gordon was going to be depressing, then he'd have to see less of
Gordon.

"Her name is Jewel Hudson," went on the distressed voice from the bed.
"She used to be 'pure,' I guess, up to about a year ago." Lived here
in New York--poor family. Her people are dead now and she lives with