d wondered what would happen if she were to go up to him and
fling her arms about him. But even if her touch could have broken the
spell, she was not sure she would have chosen that way of breaking it.
Beneath her speechless anguish there burned the half-conscious sense
of having been unfairly treated. When they had entered into their
queer compact, Nick had known as well as she on what compromises and
concessions the life they were to live together must be based. That he
should have forgotten it seemed so unbelievable that she wondered, with
a new leap of fear, if he were using the wretched Ellie's indiscretion
as a means of escape from a tie already wearied of. Suddenly she raised
her head with a laugh.

"After all--you were right when you wanted me to be your mistress."

He turned on her with an astonished stare. "You--my mistress?"

Through all her pain she thrilled with pride at the discovery that
such a possibility had long since become unthinkable to him. But she
insisted. "That day at the Fulmers'--have you forgotten? When you said
it would be sheer madness for us to marry."

Lansing stood leaning in the embrasure of the window, his eyes fixed on
the mosaic volutes of the floor.

"I was right enough when I said it would be sheer madness for us to
marry," he rejoined at length.

She sprang up trembling. "Well, that's easily settled. Our compact--"

"Oh, that compact--" he interrupted her with an impatient laugh.

"Aren't you asking me to carry it out now?"

"Because I said we'd better part?" He paused. "But the compact--I'd
almost forgotten it--was to the effect, wasn't it, that we were to give
each other a helping hand if either of us had a better chance? The thing
was absurd, of course; a mere joke; from my point of view, at least. I
shall never want any better chance... any other chance...."

"Oh, Nick, oh, Nick... but then...." She was close to him, his face
looming down through her tears; but he put her back.

"It would have been easy enough, wouldn't it," he rejoined, "if we'd
been as detachable as all that? As it is, it's going to hurt horribly.
But talking it over won't help. You were right just now when you asked
how else we were going to live. We're born parasites, both, I suppose,
or we'd have found out some way long ago. But I find there are things I
might put up with for myself, at a pinch--and should, probably, in time
that I can't let you put up with for me... ever.... Those cigars at
C