seems really to be our
unconscious influence. Fancy my having changed the dear partner of my
joys and sorrows to this semblance, and all the while being myself in
total ignorance of the change! Well, well! The world wags and we wag
with it. So you're determined to put off the old Adam--in other words,
Cecil Chesney?"

Sophy looked at him for a moment without answering, then she said
simply:

"Why should I want to be with you when you treat me like this? Why
should I risk my life for a man who doesn't love me?"

"So I don't love you, eh?"

"No."

"You really think that?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you put a poisonous drug before me."

He flushed, biting his lip hard. Then he said in a cold, rough voice:

"Look here--am I to take this announcement seriously?"

"Yes."

"You mean you're really going to cut off to Italy and leave me in the
lurch--like a sick dog in a ditch?"

"I'm going to Italy to-morrow."

"God! you're a fine helpmate!" he cried savagely. "'Eyes take your fill
... lips take your last embrace.' Come here!" he barked suddenly,
tapping the side of the bed with his gaunt hand. "Come to your husband,
wifie, dear!"

Sophy stood up. "No," she said.

"What! You refuse me a chaste embrace?--even at parting? You're really a
sublime wife, ain't you?"

"I'm not a wife. I am myself. You are not my husband. You are not even
yourself. Until you are yourself I will not come near you. I will not
pretend to be your wife."

His face was livid--dreadful. He reared himself in the bed. All his huge
frame, so noticeably thinner, trembled. He flung out an arm towards the
door.

"Damn you! go, then!" he said behind his teeth. "If you're going, go!"

She was gone while he was yet speaking.

* * * * *

Dr. Carfew arrived at Dynehurst the next morning. Sophy was to leave for
the Continent that afternoon. He had a long conference with Lady
Wychcote, Gerald, Bellamy and Nurse Harding. Sophy was present but said
very little. When Lady Wychcote so far put aside her usual attitude of
haughty reserve as to urge the great specialist to take charge of her
son's case, he met her courteously but bluntly.

"Unless Mr. Chesney is put in one of the places that I provide for such
patients, I cannot do so, your ladyship," he said. "It would be quite
useless."

Then the question of committing Cecil to such a place, even without his
consent, was discussed. Lady Wychcote listened to the