Nobody to blame. Just happens."

"Harry--you mean--"

"Aw, now, Millie, it's no easier for me to say than for you to listen. I'd
sooner cut off my right hand than put it up to you. Been putting it off all
these months. If you hadn't nagged--led up to it, I'd have stuck it out
somehow and made things miserable for both of us. It's just as well you
brought it up. I--Life's life, Millie, and what you going to do about it?"

A sound escaped her like the rising moan of a gale up a flue; then she
sat down against trembling that seized her and sent ripples along the
iridescent sequins.

"Harry--Alma Zitelle--you mean--Harry?"

"Now what's the use going into all that, Millie? What's the difference who
I mean? It happened."

"Harry, she--she's a common woman."

"We won't discuss that."

"She'll climb on you to what she wants higher up still. She won't bring you
nothing but misery, Harry. I know what I'm saying; she'll--"

"You're talking about something you know nothing about--you--"

"I do. I do. You're hypnotized, Harry. It's her looks. Her dressing like
a snake. Her hair. I can get mine fixed redder 'n hers, Harry. It takes a
little time. Mine's only started to turn, Harry, is why it don't look right
yet to you. This dress, it's from her own dressmaker. Harry--I promise you
I can make myself like--her--I promise you, Harry--"

"For God's sake, Millie, don't talk like--that! It's awful! What's those
things got to do with it? It's--awful!"

"They have, Harry. They have, only a man don't know it. She's a bad woman,
Harry--she's got you fascinated with the way she dresses and does--"

"We won't go into that."

"We will. We will. I got the right. I don't have to let you go if I don't
want to. I'm the mother of your son. I'm the wife that was good enough for
you in the days when you needed her. I--"

"You can't throw that up to me, Millie. I've squared that debt."

"She'll throw you over, Harry, when I'll stand by you to the crack of doom.
Take my word for it, Harry. O God! Harry, please take my word for it!"

She closed her streaming eyes, clutching at his sleeve in a state beyond
her control. "Won't you please? Please!"

He toed the carpet.

"I--I'd sooner be hit in the face, Millie, than--have this happen. Swear I
would! But you see for yourself we--we can't go on this way."

She sat for a moment, her stare widening above the palm clapped tightly
against her mouth.

"Then you mean, Harry, you want--you w