a man of Lester's temperament should consider himself wronged
by Jennie merely because she had concealed a child whose existence was
due to conduct no more irregular than was involved later in the
yielding of herself to him was an example of those inexplicable
perversions of judgment to which the human mind, in its capacity of
keeper of the honor of others, seems permanently committed. Lester,
aside from his own personal conduct (for men seldom judge with that in
the balance), had faith in the ideal that a woman should reveal
herself completely to the one man with whom she is in love; and the
fact that she had not done so was a grief to him. He had asked her
once tentatively about her past. She begged him not to press her. That
was the time she should have spoken of any child. Now--he shook
his head.

His first impulse, after he had thought the thing over, was to walk
out and leave her. At the same time he was curious to hear the end of
this business. He did put on his hat and coat, however, and went out,
stopping at the first convenient saloon to get a drink. He took a car
and went down to the club, strolling about the different rooms and
chatting with several people whom he encountered. He was restless and
irritated; and finally, after three hours of meditation, he took a cab
and returned to his apartment.

The distraught Jennie, sitting by her sleeping child, was at last
made to realize, by its peaceful breathing that all danger was over.
There was nothing more that she could do for Vesta, and now the claims
of the home that she had deserted began to reassert themselves, the
promise to Lester and the need of being loyal to her duties unto the
very end. Lester might possibly be waiting for her. It was just
probable that he wished to hear the remainder of her story before
breaking with her entirely. Although anguished and frightened by the
certainty, as she deemed it, of his forsaking her, she nevertheless
felt that it was no more than she deserved--a just punishment for
all her misdoings.

When Jennie arrived at the flat it was after eleven, and the hall
light was already out. She first tried the door, and then inserted her
key. No one stirred, however, and, opening the door, she entered in
the expectation of seeing Lester sternly confronting her. He was not
there, however. The burning gas had merely been an oversight on his
part. She glanced quickly about, but seeing only the empty room, she
came instantly to the