hen we can talk of things rationally." He stopped,
and added with surly but genuine feeling: "I suppose you know I'm
damnably sorry and all that.... I apologise ... humbly. I ... I ...
acted like a cad to you, and that's a fact...."

He paused, as if waiting for her to say something. She said nothing. He
blustered on:

".... But when you mentioned divorce to me in that cool way.... By
God!... I _did_ go crazy.... I'll swear I did.... And that little fiend
had...."

"Don't, Morris...." she said again.

"But I tell you I was a lunatic for the moment...."

"No, Morris ... it's no use ... it's no use...."

"And that cursed Italian chap!..."

Sophy's eyes grew hard.

"The Marchese Amaldi is an old and dear friend of mine," she said;
"please don't vilify him to me."

Loring had a flash of rage; then controlled himself.

"Well--I guess that subject _had_ better be dropped between us," he
admitted shamefacedly.

Sophy, looking at him quietly, said:

"Another thing that I have to tell you is that Amaldi is coming here
this afternoon. He will come about half-past six. I wish to see him
before I go to Virginia. I asked him to come."

"Oh, all right ... all right ... of course," Loring replied, in a rather
foolish voice.

"I shall take Bobby and Rosa with me to Sweet-Waters," Sophy continued.
"Mr. Grey will follow in a day or two after he has seen that the
household and accounts are all in order. We went over the accounts
together this morning. I am also leaving directions with him about a few
other things. He will hand you certain keys. You had better have the
jewels taken to the bank at once."

Loring looked rather staggered. He forced a smile.

"I say...." he protested. "You _are_ laying it on a bit thick, you
know...."

He had again that boyish look which so hurt her--there was in his
forced smile the sort of timid, ingratiating air that a dog has when it
knows that it is muddy and yet wishes to jump up on the most cherished
chair.

She said hurriedly:

"I shall have to dress now. I've told Simms that I'm at home this
afternoon...."

She went out.

Loring stood a moment, looking at the telegram which he still pinched
and twisted in his cold fingers. All at once he sank down, laying his
face on his arm and his arm on the little table. His hands were
tight-clenched.

"Oh, Lord, what a fool I've been!..." he groaned. "What a double-damned
fool!..."

But he did not believe for one instant that Soph