e."

"You insist on quarrelling?"

"I insist on but one thing,"--swiftly. "That you never again come into
my sight, or into the sight of my wife."

One of Ichabod's long hands extended in gesture.

"And I insist you shall never again use the name of Camilla Maurice as
your wife."

The old mocking smile sprang to Asa Arnold's face.

"Unconsciously, you're amusing," he derided. "The old story of the
mouse who forbids the cat.... You forget, man, she is my wife."

Ichabod stood up, seemingly longer and gaunter than ever before.

"Good God, Arnold," he flashed, "haven't you the faintest element of
pride, or of consistency in your make-up? Is it necessary for a woman
to tell you more than once that she hates you? By your own statement
your marriage, even at first, was merely of convenience; but even if
this weren't so, every principle of the belief you hold releases her.
Before God, or man, you haven't the slightest claim, and you know
it."

"And you--"

"I love her."

Asa Arnold did not stir, but the pupils of his eyes grew wider, until
the whole eye seemed black.

"You fool!" he accented slowly. "You brazen egoist! Did it never occur
to you that others than yourself could love?"

Score for the little man. Ichabod had been pinked first.

"You dare tell me to my face you loved her?"

"I do."

"You lie!" blazed Ichabod. "Every word and action of your life gives
you the lie!"

Not five minutes had passed since he came in and already he had
forgotten!

Asa Arnold likewise was upon his feet and they two faced each
other,--a bed length between; in their minds the past and future a
blank, the present with its primitive animal hate blazing in their
eyes.

"You know what it means to tell me that." Arnold's voice was a full
note higher than usual. "You'll apologize?"

"Never. It's true. You lied, and you know you lied."

The surrounding world turned dark to the little man, and the dry-goods
box with the tin dipper on its top, danced before his eyes. For the
first time in his memory he felt himself losing self-control, and by
main force of will he turned away to the window. For the instant all
the savage of his nature was on the surface, and he could fairly feel
his fingers gripping at the tall man's throat.

A moment he stood in the narrow south window, full in the smiling
irony of Nature's sunshine; but only a moment. Then the mocking smile
that had become an instinctive part of his nature spread over