for me in the decision. That's
pretty fair evidence that the State has no case against me."

His wife saw she had made a mistake. It clarified her judgment on
the instant. "I didn't mean in that way, Frank," she replied,
apologetically. "You know I didn't. Of course I know you're not guilty.
Why should I think you were, of all people?"

She paused, expecting some retort, some further argument--a kind word
maybe. A trace of the older, baffling love, but he had quietly turned to
his desk and was thinking of other things.

At this point the anomaly of her own state came over her again. It was
all so sad and so hopeless. And what was she to do in the future? And
what was he likely to do? She paused half trembling and yet decided,
because of her peculiarly nonresisting nature--why trespass on his time?
Why bother? No good would really come of it. He really did not care for
her any more--that was it. Nothing could make him, nothing could bring
them together again, not even this tragedy. He was interested in another
woman--Aileen--and so her foolish thoughts and explanations, her fear,
sorrow, distress, were not important to him. He could take her agonized
wish for his freedom as a comment on his probable guilt, a doubt of
his innocence, a criticism of him! She turned away for a minute, and he
started to leave the room.

"I'll be back again in a few moments," he volunteered. "Are the children
here?"

"Yes, they're up in the play-room," she answered, sadly, utterly
nonplussed and distraught.

"Oh, Frank!" she had it on her lips to cry, but before she could utter
it he had bustled down the steps and was gone. She turned back to the
table, her left hand to her mouth, her eyes in a queer, hazy, melancholy
mist. Could it be, she thought, that life could really come to
this--that love could so utterly, so thoroughly die? Ten years
before--but, oh, why go back to that? Obviously it could, and thoughts
concerning that would not help now. Twice now in her life her affairs
had seemed to go to pieces--once when her first husband had died, and
now when her second had failed her, had fallen in love with another and
was going to be sent off to prison. What was it about her that caused
such things? Was there anything wrong with her? What was she going to
do? Where go? She had no idea, of course, for how long a term of years
he would be sent away. It might be one year or it might be five years,
as the papers had said. Good heavens! The