ries.

There were moments when the hollow present snapped under their feet like
a broken twig, and then the light in their eyes darkened and they ran
out upon the safer path of make-believe.

It was Winn who, curiously enough, began it, and returned to it
oftenest. It came to him, this abolishing of Estelle, always more easily
than it came to Claire. It was inconceivable to Claire that Winn didn't,
as a rule, remember his wife. She could have understood the tragedy of
his marriage, but Winn didn't make a tragedy of it, he made nothing of
it at all. It seemed terrible to Claire that any woman, bearing his
name, the mother of his child, should have no life in his heart. She
found herself resenting this for Estelle. She tried to make Winn talk
about her, so that she might justify her ways to him. But Winn went no
further in his expressions than the simple phrases, "She's not my sort,"
"We haven't anything in common," "I expect we didn't hit it off."
Finally he said, terribly, under the persistency of Claire's pressure,
"Well, if you will have it, I don't believe a single word she says."

"Oh, but sometimes, sometimes she must speak the truth!" Claire urged,
breathless with pity.

"I dare say," Winn replied indifferently. "Possibly she does, but what
difference does it make to me when I don't know which times?"

Claire waited a little, then she said:

"I wasn't thinking of the difference to you; I was thinking of the
difference to her."

"I tell you," Winn repeated obstinately, "that I don't care a hang about
the difference to her. People shouldn't tell lies. I don't care that for
her!" He snapped a crumb off the table. He looked triumphantly at
Claire, under the impression that he had convinced her of a pleasing
fact. She burst into tears.

He tried to take her in his arms, but for a moment she resisted him.

"Do you _want_ me to love Estelle?" he asked in desperation.

Claire shook her head.

"I'd like her--to be loved," she said, still sobbing.

Winn looked wonderingly at her.

"Well, as far as that goes, so would I," he observed, with a sardonic
grin. "There'd be some way out for us then."

Claire shook her head vehemently, but she made no attempt to explain her
tears. She felt that she couldn't alter him, and that when he most
surprised her it was wiser to accept these surprises than to probe her
deep astonishment.

He surprised her very often, he was in such a hurry to unburden himself
of all he was