of
divinity, to kill in me the right to live and love and bring the
living into life. And if I am forbidden to do it in the name of the
law, then I dare do it in the name of One who never turned his back on
little children--"

She ceased abruptly; and he saw her eyes suddenly blinded by tears:

"Oh, Clive--if you only could have seen them--the little flower-like
faces and pleading arms around--my--neck--warm--Oh, sweet!--sweet
against my breast--"

CHAPTER XXV

Winifred had grown stout, which, on a slim, small-boned woman is
quickly apparent; and, to Clive, her sleepy, uncertain grey eyes
seemed even nearer together than he remembered them.

She was seated in the yellow and white living-room of her apartment at
the Regina, still holding the card he had sent up; and she made no
movement to rise when her maid announced him and ushered him in, or to
greet him at all except with a slight nod and a slighter gesture
indicating a chair across the room.

He said: "I did not know until this morning that you were in this
country."

"Was it necessary to inform you?"

"No, not necessary," he said, "unless you have come to some definite
decision concerning our future relations."

Her eyes seemed to grow sleepier and nearer together than ever.

"Why," he asked, wearily, "have you employed an agency to have me
followed?"

She lifted her drooping lids and finely pencilled brows. "Have you
been followed?"

"At intervals, as you know. Would you mind saying why? Because you
have always been welcome to divorce."

She sat silent, slowly tearing into tiny squares the card he had sent
up. Presently, as at an afterthought, she collected all the fragments
and placed them in a heap on the table beside her.

"Well?" she inquired, glancing up at him. "Is that all you have to
say?"

"I don't know what to say until you tell me why you have had me
followed and why you yourself are here."

Her gaze remained fixed on the heap of little pasteboard squares which
she shifted across the polished table-top from one position to
another. She said:

"The case against you was complete enough before last night. I fancy
even you will admit that."

"You are wrong," he replied wearily. "Somehow or other I believe you
know that you are wrong. But I suppose a jury might not think so."

"Would you care to tell a jury that this trance-medium is not your
mistress?"

"I should not care to defend her on such a charge before a jury or