rms folded.

Her mind during the interval had been exclusively occupied with the
position of that piece of blotting-paper. Could it be there was some
other woman whose ghost-like presence she was just beginning to feel
haunting their relation? The impersonality of Vincent's manner was an
armor against such attacks, but this armor, as Adelaide knew, was more
apparent than real. If one could get beyond that, one was at the very
heart of the man. If some fortuitous circumstance had brought a sudden
accidental intimacy between him and another woman--What woman loving
strength and power could resist the sight of Vincent in action, Vincent
as she saw him?

Yet with a good capacity for believing the worst of her fellow-creatures,
Adelaide did not really believe in the other woman. That, she knew,
would bring a change in the fundamentals of her relationship with her
husband. This was only a barrier that left the relation itself untouched.

Before very long she began to think the situation was all in her own
imagination. He was so amused, so eager to talk. Silent as he was apt to
be with the rest of the world, with her he sometimes showed a love of
gossip that enchanted her. And now it seemed to her that he was leading
her on from subject to subject through a childish dislike to going to
bed. They were actually giggling over Mr. Lanley's adventure when a
motor-brake squeaked in the silence of the night, a motor-door slammed.
For the first time Adelaide remembered her daughter. It was after twelve
o'clock. A knock came at her door. She wrapped her swan's-down garment
about her and went to the door.

"O Mama, have you been worried?" the girl asked. She was standing in the
narrow corridor, with her arms full of shining favors; there could be no
question whatever that she had stayed for the dance. "Are you angry?
Have I been keeping you awake?"

"I thought you would have been home an hour ago."

"I know. I want to tell you about it. Mama, how lovely you look in that
blue thing! Won't you come up-stairs with me while I undress?"

Adelaide shook her head.

"Not to-night," she answered.

"You are angry with me," the girl went on. "But if you will come, I will
explain. I have something to tell you, Mama."

Mrs. Farron's heart stood still. The phrase could mean only one thing.
She went up-stairs with her daughter, sent the maid away, and herself
began to undo the soft, pink silk.

"It needs an extra hook," she murmured. "I t