ened.

"Nothing you can say will make any difference," she answered, in the
same monotonous tone. Even his rage could not alter the helpless
melancholy of her voice.

"Do you think he deserves it--deserves anything? You actually put a
premium on loose conduct. You reward him for it, while--while other men,
who are _trying_, at least, to lead decent lives, are thrust aside."

"He is my husband."

"So good a one!"

"That has nothing to do with it."

"_Nothing?_"

"No; not with my duty."

"I believe you have lost your wits, you are demented," he said,
violently.

"Oh, I wish I _were_ demented! Then my troubles would be over."

The despair of these words softened him. She had turned away, he
followed her. "Margaret, listen to reason. In some cases it _is_ right
that a wife should go back to her husband, almost no matter what he has
done. But yours is not one of them, it would kill you."

"No more than it did before."

"But it's worse for you now."

"It's exactly the same."

"He left you a _second_ time."

"I have only to thank him for that, haven't I? It gave me a respite.
Over there on the river, when I learned--when I knew--that he had really
gone, I could scarcely hide my joy--I had to hide myself to do it! It
was the relief, the delight, of being free."

"The law, you know, would free you forever."

"I shall never take advantage of it."

"Do you think you know better than the law?"

"Yes; the law only touches part of the truth. Its plea would not do for
me."

"This is pure excitement. Womanlike, you have wrought yourself up to
this new view; but it is without a grain of foundation in either justice
or common-sense."

"It isn't a new view, I have always known what I should do. That was the
reason I wished to keep the house on the river--so that it could be
ready in case he should come back. For I felt that he might come at any
time, I was never deceived as to any permanent improvement in his
health. I have thought it all over again and again; there isn't a
loop-hole of escape for me. Let us say no more."

"I shall say a great deal more."

She put out both hands towards him, with a desperate repelling gesture.
"Oh, _leave_ me!" she cried.

"I shall not leave you until you have given me an explanation that is
reasonable; so far, you have not done it. Time and time again you have
put me off, to-day you shall not."

Her own cry had seemed to restore to her her self-control.

"Very well,"