will send you my address as soon as I have
one, and you will please have Katie pack up my things and send them to
me."

I turned and went swiftly to the door. As I closed it after me, I
thought I heard Dicky cry out hoarsely. But I did not stop.

XV

"BUT I LOVE YOU"

With my bag in my hand, I fairly fled down the stairs which led from
our third floor apartment to the street. I had no idea where I was
going or what I was going to do. Only one idea possessed me--to put
as much space as possible between me and the apartment which held my
husband and his mother.

Reaching the street, I started to walk along it briskly. But,
trembling as I was from the humiliating scene I had just gone through,
I saw that I could not walk indefinitely, and that I must get to some
place at once where I could be alone and think.

"Taxi, ma'am?"

A taxi whose driver evidently had been watching me in the hope of a
fare rolled up beside me.

I dived into it gratefully. At least in its shelter I would be alone
and safe from observation for a few minutes, long enough for me to
decide what to do next.

"Where to, ma'am?"

I searched my memory wildly for a moment. Where to, indeed! But the
chauffeur waited.

"Brooklyn Bridge," I said desperately.

"Very well, ma'am," and in another minute we were speeding swiftly
southward.

As I cowered against the cushions of the taxi, with burning cheeks and
crushed spirit, I realized that my marriage with Dicky was not a yoke
that I could wear or not as I pleased. It was still on my shoulders,
heavy just now, but a burden that I realized I loved and could not
live without.

And I had thought to end it all when I dashed out of the apartment!

I knew that I could have done nothing else but walk out after Dicky
uttered his humiliating ultimatum. But I also knew Dicky well enough
to realize that when he came to himself he would regret what he had
done and try to find me. I must make it an easy task for him.

So I decided my destination quickly. I would go to my old boarding
place, where my mother and I had lived and where I had first met
Dicky. My kindly old landlady, Mrs. Stewart, was one of my best
friends. Without telling too broad a falsehood, I could make her
believe I had come to spend the night with her. The next day, I hoped,
would solve its own problems.

"This is the bridge entrance, ma'am." The chauffeur's voice broke my
revery. I had made my decision just in time.

How