will_ get married--that's all there is
to it! A nice spectacle we would make of ourselves if we didn't! Have
you thought of that?" he demanded. "Have you thought of what people
would say?"

Again her lips traced that faint smile that showed the sadness of her
face. "There was a time, Stuart," she said wearily, "when we were not
governed by what people would say."

He frowned, but went on more mildly: "You've got the thing all twisted
up, Ruth. You do that sometimes. You often have a queer way of looking
at a thing; not the usual way--a--well, a sort of twisted way."

She got up. One hand was at her throat as if feeling some impediment
there; the knuckles of her clenched hand were tapping the table. "A
queer way of looking at things," she said in quick, sharp voice that was
like the tapping of her knuckles. "Not the usual way. A--sort of twisted
way. Perhaps. Perhaps that's true. Perhaps that was the way I had of
looking at things twelve years ago--when I left them all behind and went
with you. Perhaps that was what made me do it--that queer, twisted way
of looking at things! But this much is true, Stuart, and this you have
got to know is true. I went with you because I was as I was. I'm going
my way alone now because I am as I am. And what you don't see is
this,--that the thing that made me go with you then is the thing that
makes me go my way alone now."

For a moment they stood there facing each other, her eyes forcing home
what she had said. But she was trembling and suddenly, weakly, she sat
down.

"Well, I simply can't understand it!" he cried petulantly and flung open
the door and stood looking out.

"Look here, Ruth," he turned sharply to her after a little, "have you
thought of the position this puts _me_ in? Have you thought of the
position you would put _me_ in?" he contended hotly. "Do you know what
people would say about me? You ought to know what they'd say! They'd say
_I_ was the one!--they'd say _I_ didn't want to do it!"

There was a little catch something like a laugh as she replied: "Of
course. They'll say men don't marry women of that sort, won't they?"

"Oh, you can't do this, Ruth," he went on quickly. "You see, it can't be
done. I tell you it wouldn't be right! It just wouldn't be _right_--in
any sense. Why can't you see that? Can't you see that we've got to
vindicate the whole thing? That we've got to show them that it _does_
last! That's the vindication for it," he finished stoutly, "tha