It was, of course, exactly what no one had the right to ask of her: if
indeed the word "right", could be used in any conceivable relation to
this coil of wrongs. But the fact remained that, in the way of kindness,
she did owe much to Ellie; and that this was the first payment her
friend had ever exacted. She found herself, in fact, in exactly the same
position as when Ursula Gillow, using the same argument, had appealed
to her to give up Nick Lansing. Yes, Susy reflected; but then Nelson
Vanderlyn had been kind to her too; and the money Ellie had been so kind
with was Nelson's.... The queer edifice of Susy's standards tottered on
its base she honestly didn't know where fairness lay, as between so much
that was foul.

The very depth of her perplexity puzzled her. She had been in "tight
places" before; had indeed been in so few that were not, in one way or
another, constricting! As she looked back on her past it lay before her
as a very network of perpetual concessions and contrivings. But
never before had she had such a sense of being tripped up, gagged and
pinioned. The little misery of the cigars still galled her, and now
this big humiliation superposed itself on the raw wound. Decidedly, the
second month of their honey-moon was beginning cloudily....

She glanced at the enamel led travelling-clock on her dressing
table--one of the few wedding-presents she had consented to accept in
kind--and was startled at the lateness of the hour. In a moment Nick
would be coming; and an uncomfortable sensation in her throat warned
her that through sheer nervousness and exasperation she might blurt out
something ill-advised. The old habit of being always on her guard made
her turn once more to the looking-glass. Her face was pale and haggard;
and having, by a swift and skilful application of cosmetics, increased
its appearance of fatigue, she crossed the room and softly opened her
husband's door.

He too sat by a lamp, reading a letter which he put aside as she
entered. His face was grave, and she said to herself that he was
certainly still thinking about the cigars.

"I'm very tired, dearest, and my head aches so horribly that I've come
to bid you good-night." Bending over the back of his chair, she laid
her arms on his shoulders. He lifted his hands to clasp hers, but, as
he threw his head back to smile up at her she noticed that his look was
still serious, almost remote. It was as if, for the first time, a faint
veil hung be