-the days with no one but Jeanette
Ware, and the soul-shaking knowledge of what was ahead?

And Ridgeley would not care--much. In a week be swallowed up by his
work....

She tried to read, but found it difficult. Across each page flamed
Christopher's sentences.... "We'll ride through the desert.... We'll set
our sails for strange harbors...."

Was that what the old man had meant at the circus.... "What you think is
evil--cannot be evil"? Would Christopher give her all that she had hoped
of Ridgeley? If she lived to be eighty, she and Ridgeley would--jog. Was
Christopher right--"You'll have more happiness in a few months than some
people in a lifetime?"

She heard her husband moving about in the next room, the water booming
in his bath. A thin line of light showed under his door.

She shut her book and turned out her lamp. The storm had died down and
the moon was up. Through the open window she could see beyond the garden
to the grove of birches.

Hitherto, the thought of the little grove had been as of a sanctuary.
She was aware, suddenly, that it had become a place of contending
forces. Were the guardian angels driven out...?

_But there weren't any guardian angels_! Ridgeley had said that they
were silly. And Christopher didn't believe in them. She wished that her
mother might have lived to talk it over. Her mother had had no doubts.

The door of her husband's room opened, and he was silhouetted against
the light. Coming up to the side of her bed, he found her wide-eyed.

"Can't you sleep, my dear?"

"No."

"I don't want to give you anything."

"I don't want anything."

He sat down by the side of the bed. He had on his blue bathrobe, and the
open neck showed his strong white throat. "My dear," he said, "I've been
thinking of what you said this morning--about my lack of belief and the
effect it has had on yours. And--I'm sorry."

"Being sorry doesn't help any, does it, Ridgeley?"

"I should like to think that you had your old faiths to--comfort you."

She had no answer for that, and presently he said, "Are you warm
enough?" and brought an extra blanket, because the air was cool after
the storm, and then he bent and kissed her forehead. "Shut your eyes and
sleep if you can."

But of course she couldn't sleep. She lay there for hours, weighing what
he had said to her against what Christopher had said. Each man was
offering her something--Christopher, life at the expense of all her
scruples. Ridgeley