kicking than I've given him! But
that's not the point, you see. The point is that we're married....
Married.... Doesn't it mean something to you, something--inexorable? It
does to me. I didn't dream it would--in just that way. But all I can say
is that I suppose the people who don't feel it aren't really married-and
they'd better separate; much better. As for us--"

Through her tears she gasped out: "That's what I felt... that's what I
said to Streff...."

He was upon her with a great embrace. "My darling! My darling! You have
told him?"

"Yes," she panted. "That's why I'm living here." She paused. "And you've
told Coral?"

She felt his embrace relax. He drew away a little, still holding her,
but with lowered head.

"No... I... haven't."

"Oh, Nick! But then--?"

He caught her to him again, resentfully. "Well--then what? What do you
mean? What earthly difference does it make?"

"But if you've told her you were going to marry her--" (Try as she
would, her voice was full of silver chimes.)

"Marry her? Marry her?" he echoed. "But how could I? What does marriage
mean anyhow? If it means anything at all it means--you! And I can't ask
Coral Hicks just to come and live with me, can I?"

Between crying and laughing she lay on his breast, and his hand passed
over her hair.

They were silent for a while; then he began again: "You said it yourself
yesterday, you know."

She strayed back from sunlit distances. "Yesterday?"

"Yes: that Grace Fulmer says you can't separate two people who've been
through a lot of things--"

"Ah, been through them together--it's not the things, you see, it's the
togetherness," she interrupted.

"The togetherness--that's it!" He seized on the word as if it had just
been coined to express their case, and his mind could rest in it without
farther labour.

The door-bell rang, and they started. Through the window they saw the
taxi-driver gesticulating enquiries as to the fate of the luggage.

"He wants to know if he's to leave it here," Susy laughed.

"No--no! You're to come with me," her husband declared.

"Come with you?" She laughed again at the absurdity of the suggestion.

"Of course: this very instant. What did you suppose? That I was going
away without you? Run up and pack your things," he commanded.

"My things? My things? But I can't leave the children!"

He stared, between indignation and amusement. "Can't leave the children?
Nonsense! Why, you said yourself you we