e law of
hypocrisy which we call diplomacy. I've found that society is one
living lie. We say 'good morning' and wish we could murder the man we
greet. We say 'call again' and wish it may be never. We live two lives
or we don't live at all--one outward and visible, the other secret. We
must be true to one and laugh at the other. I'm growing sick of lies!"

Stuart looked at her flushed face with a deepening thrill of the drama
of the soul its quick changing expression shadowed.

"Well?"

"I've grown to feel of late," she went on rapidly, "that it's a shame
to dodge. The only law my husband has ever known is to take what he
wants. I've the right to live my own life. We must each of us choose
our world, the one of conventions and shams or the big one that's
beyond--the world of reality, where free men and women live and work in
freedom while youth and daring lead the way."

She paused and Stuart's lips parted in amazement. Never had he heard
such eloquence from the woman before him. Words leaped from her heart,
quivering with emotion, her whole being stirred to its depths.

"Jim," she went on falteringly, "I'm lonely and heartsick. I'm trying
to tell you that I want your love; that I can't live any longer without
it."

Her head sank, low and a sob caught her voice.

"There I've told you--I've no pride left. Tell me that you love me. I
want to hear it a thousand times. I want it, right or wrong!"

She paused a moment and looked through a tear into his pale, serious
face.

"I know that you love me," she went on. "It's only your stubborn pride
that keeps you silent now. My God! Speak! Say something, if only to
curse me!"

"You should have thought of this, Nan, before these gray hairs began to
creep into my hair."

"I did, Jim!" she cried, eagerly bending, near. "God knows I fought!
You never knew it, but I did. For whole nights I wrestled with the
fiend that tempted me and fought for my love. It took days and weeks to
strangle its hold on my heart and force me to betray myself. If I had
seen you on the day of my marriage I would have leaped from the
carriage, rushed to your side, and fainted in your arms. With the
despair of a lost soul I searched the faces of the staring crowd,
hoping against hope that I might see you. Oh, Jim, it's not too late to
live! Look at me, dearest, and say it's not. For God's sake tell me
that you love me still! Am I old? Am I faded?"

The man had felt sure of himself when she began