want is for us both
to act like good, sensible friends, and...."

"_Friends!_" he exclaimed.

"Yes ... friends," said she firmly.

"Now look here, Sophy," he protested, red again. "You surely aren't
nursing that grievance still? After all these weeks?"

"What 'grievance' do you allude to, Morris?"

He grew redder and redder.

"Why ... you know," he muttered shamefacedly.

"No, Morris. I don't. I really haven't any 'grievance.' You did a thing
that seems to me final. It isn't a grievance ... it's just an end."

"Now, Sophy! If you think my ... my ... a ... my idiocy with that
girl...."

"Morris ... don't! But while that is one reason of my feeling as I do
... it isn't the thing I mean."

"Then in God's name ... _what_ is?"

He was standing now, looking excited and angry. He came over in front of
her.

"_What_ is?" he repeated.

Sophy looked up at him and her nostrils spread a little.

"Have you really forgotten?" she said, in a clear voice. "You accused me
of having a lover...."

"Oh, for God's sake!" cried Loring. His chest laboured with his strong
excitement. "Haven't I told you I was damned sorry! Haven't I
apologised--humbly? Haven't I explained I was out of my wits? Haven't I?
Haven't I?"

He stood waiting for her to answer. All up in arms--white now--quite
outraged by her unkind obstinacy.

She answered without apparent emotion:

"All that doesn't change what you said then. Of course you apologise--of
course you say you were out of your wits. What else could you say?
But---- Well, you see, Morris--it happens to be one of those facts that
can't be wiped out by apologies and regrets. Some words can't be wiped
out by other words," she ended, with a flash of bitterness.

He gazed at her sullenly.

"Can't you make allowances for a man's being mad with jealousy?" he
said.

"No. Jealousy--of that kind--is always an insult."

He stood silent for a while. Then suddenly he dropped to his knees
beside her. He felt inspired.

"Sophy...." he said very low, a sort of wheedling cunning in his voice.
"I wonder ... if _you_ aren't ... just a bit ... jealous, yourself?"

"I?"

"Yes. You. Of ... oh, you know who I mean! But, Sophy ... listen ... I
swear to you a man can be ... like that ... about another woman--and
yet love his wife ... _really_ love only her ... I swear it to you."

Sophy smiled again.

"Yes. So I've heard," she said.

He was eager in a moment.

"Well, then ... don't you see