nough. Why should he not release her? He had no business not to
give her the chance to marry Mercier, to regulate the relation, if that
was what she wanted.

It was his own chance, too, his one chance. He would be a fool not to
take it.

And as it came over him in its fullness, all that it meant and would yet
mean, Ranny felt his heart thumping and bounding, dangerously, in its
weakened state.

On a Wednesday evening in November, he presented himself once more at
the Regent Street Polytechnic and at the door of an office where, on
Wednesday evenings, an experienced legal adviser held himself in
readiness to give advice, that legal adviser who had been the jest of
his adolescence, whose services he had not conceived it possible that he
should require.

He had a curiously uplifting sense of the gravity and impressiveness of
the business upon which at last, inconceivably, he came. But this odd
elation was controlled and finally overpowered by disgust and shame, as
one by one, under the kind but acute examination of the legal man, he
brought out for his inspection the atrocious details. And he had to show
Violet's letter of September, the document, supremely valuable,
supremely infamous, supported by the further communication of November.
The keen man asked him, as his uncle and his father-in-law had asked, if
he had given any provocation, any cause for jealousy, misunderstanding,
or the like? Had his own conduct been irreproachable? When all this part
of it was over, settled to the keen man's satisfaction, Ranny was told
that there was little doubt that he could get his divorce if--that was
the question--he could afford to pay. Divorce was, yes, it was a costly
matter, almost, you might say, the luxury of the rich. A matter, for
him, probably of forty or fifty pounds--well, say, thirty, when you'd
cut expenses down to the very lowest limit. Could he, the keen but
kindly man inquired, afford thirty?

No, he couldn't. He couldn't afford twenty even. With all his existing
debts upon him he couldn't now raise ten.

He asked whether he could get his divorce if he put it off a bit until
he could afford it?

The legal man looked grave.

"Well--yes. If you can show poverty--"

Ranny thought he could undertake to show _that_ all right.

At the legal man's suggestion he wrote a letter to his wife assuring her
that it was impossible for her to desire a divorce more than he did;
that he meant to bring an action at the ver