on toward Rose. He even
tried to include his son and herself in this new atmosphere, but
with each remark in their direction his manner changed subtly. Toward
herself, in particular, his feelings were too deep for him to succeed in
belying them.

As the meal progressed, she realized that her dim forebodings were fast
materializing into a certain danger. Unless she acted promptly this slip
of a girl was going to affect, fundamentally, all their lives. Already,
it seemed as though she had been amongst them a long time and had
colored the future of them all. Mrs. Wade understood far better than her
husband would have supposed that, in his own way, his married life had
been as starved as her own; oh, far more so, for she had her boy. And
while it was not at all likely, it was not wholly impossible that he
might seek a readjustment. It seemed far-fetched for her to sit thus and
feel that drama was entering their hard lives when nothing had really
happened, but nevertheless--she knew. As, outwardly so calm, she
speculated with tumbled thoughts on how it might end, she tried to
analyze why it was that the prospect of a shake-up filled her with such
a sense of disaster. Surely, it was not because of any reluctance to
separate from Martin. Her life would be far easier if they went their
own ways. With Bill, she could make a home anywhere, one that was far
more real, in a house from which broken promises did not sound as from a
trumpet. Ashes of resentment still smouldered against Martin because of
that failure of his to play fair. She recalled the years during which
she had helped him to earn with never an unexpected pleasure; reflected
with bitterness that never, since they had cast their lives together,
had he urged her to indulge in any sweet little extravagance, though he
had denied himself nothing that he really wished. It was no riddle to
her, as it had been to her niece earlier in the evening, why the same
hard work had dealt so benignly with Martin and so uncharitably with
herself. She comprehended only too well that it was not that alone which
had crushed her. It was his ceaseless domination over her, the utter
subjugation of her will, her complete lack of freedom. She glanced
across the table at him, astounded by his hearty laugh in response to
one of Rose's sallies. It seemed incredible that it could be really
Martin's. It had such a ring and came out so easily as if he were more
inclined to merriment than to silence.