It was a nasty little article by a fellow literary craftsman from the Pacific coast, that set me off, brought me to the full realisation that I was but playing the usual, conventional game,—­that roused me to the determination that I must no longer sail under false colours.

This writer retailed how, after a brief, disillusioning few weeks together, Hildreth had grown tired of the poverty and spareness of the living a poet was able to make for her ... of how I was lazy, impliedly dirty ... of how, up against realities, we had parted ...  I had, he stated, in fact, deserted her, and was now on my way back to Kansas, riding the rods of freights, once more an unsavoury outcast, a knight of the road ... he ended with the implication, if I remember correctly, that the reception that awaited me in Kansas, would be, to say the least, problematical.

Of course this story was made up out of whole cloth.

’Gene Mallows afterward informed me that the big literary club in San Francisco that this hack belonged to had seriously considered disciplining him by expulsion for his unethical behaviour toward a fellow-writer.

* * * * *

But I maintain that it was good that he penned the scurrilous article.  For I had allowed happiness to lull my radical conscience asleep.  It was now goaded awake.  I held a conference with Hildreth.

“There is now only one thing for me to ... to come right out with it that you and I are living here together in a free union, and that the love we bear each other not only justifies, but sanctifies our doing as we do—­as no legal or ecclesiastical procedure could....

“That here we are and here we intend to abide, on these principles—­no matter what the rest of the world does or says or thinks.”

“I admit, Johnnie, that that would be the ideal way, but—­” interrupted Darrie—­

“But nothing—­I’m tired of sneaking around, hiding from grocers and butcher boys, when everybody knows—­

“And besides, Hildreth,” turning to her, taking her in my arms, kissing her tenderly on the brow—­“don’t you see what it all means?

“As long as I pretend not to be living with you I’m considered a sly dog that seduced his friend’s wife and got away with it ... ’served him right, the husband, for being such a boob!’ ... ’rather a clever chap, that Gregory, don’t you know, not to be blamed much, eh?’ ... ’only human, eh?’ ...—­’she’s a deuced pretty little woman, they say!’

“Can’t you see the sly looks, the nudges they give each other, as they gossip in the clubs?”

“Don’t let your imagination get the better of you, please don’t!” urged Darrie....

“No,” I went on, “I’m going to send right now for Jerome Miller, a newspaper lad I knew in Kansas, who’s now in New York on a paper, and give him an interview that will set us right with the stupid world once and for all.  Miller was a fellow student of mine at Laurel ... he’s a fine, square chap who will give me a clean break ... was president of our Scoop Club.”