e.
But you must know there was no real marriage between Marion Averley and
Stuart Williams. And I don't believe you can deny that there is a real
marriage between him and Ruth Holland." He had risen and now moved a
little toward the steps. "So you see I don't believe I care much for
your 'society,' Mrs. Lawrence," he laughed shortly. "This looks to me
like a pretty clear case of life against society--and I see things just
straight enough that life itself strikes me as rather more important
than your precious 'arrangement' of it!"

That did not bring the color to Mrs. Lawrence's face; there seemed no
color at all there when Deane finished speaking. She sat erect, her
hands folded on her sewing, looking at him with strangely bright eyes.
When she spoke it was with a certain metallic pleasantness. "Why, very
well, Deane," she said; "one is at perfect liberty to choose, isn't one?
And I think it quite right to declare one's self, as you have just done,
that we may know who is of us and who is not." She smiled--a smile that
seemed definitely to shut him out.

He looked at Edith; her eyes were down; he could see that her lips
trembled. "Good-by," he said.

Mrs. Lawrence bowed slightly and took up her sewing.

"Good-by, Edith," he added gently.

She looked up at him and he saw then why she had been looking down.
"Good-by, Deane," she said a little huskily, her eyes all clouded with
tears. "Though how absurd!" she quickly added with a rather tremulous
laugh. "We shall be seeing you as usual, of course." But it was more
appeal than declaration.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Ruth was different after her talk with Deane that night. Ted felt the
change in her when he went up to say goodnight. The constraint between
them seemed somehow to have fallen away. Ruth was natural now--just
Ruth, he told himself, and felt that talking to Deane had done her good.
He lingered to chat with her awhile--of the arrangements for the night,
various little things about the house, just the things they naturally
would talk of; his feeling of embarrassment, diffidence, melted quite
away before her quiet simplicity, her warm naturalness. She had seemed
timid all day--holding back. Now she seemed just quietly to take her
place. He had been afraid of doing or saying something that would hurt
her, that had kept him from being natural, he knew. But now he forgot
about that. And when Ruth put her hands up on his shoulders and lifted
her face to kiss h