though, was all
he could think, so unkind! It never occurred to him that it was
accidental, as indeed it was not, but only that it was a trick, sharp,
cunning, ill-timed for him, just the thing calculated to blast his
career and tie him down to the old regime when he wanted most to be
free. A new life was dawning for him now. For the first time in his life
he was to have a woman after his own heart, so young, so beautiful, so
intellectual, so artistic! With Suzanne by his side, he was about to
plumb the depths of all the joys of living. Without her, life was to be
dark and dreary, and here was Angela coming forward at the critical
moment disrupting this dream as best she could by the introduction of a
child that she did not want, and all to hold him against his will. If
ever he hated her for trickery and sharp dealing, he did so now. What
would the effect on Suzanne be? How would he convince her that it was a
trick? She must understand; she would. She would not let this miserable
piece of chicanery stand between him and her. He turned in his bed
wearily after he had gone to it, but he could not sleep. He had to say
something, do something. So he arose, slipped on a dressing gown, and
went to Angela's room.

That distraught soul, for all her determination and fighting capacity,
was enduring for the second time in her life the fires of hell. To think
that in spite of all her work, her dreams, this recent effort to bring
about peace and happiness, perhaps at the expense of her own life, she
was compelled to witness a scene like this. Eugene was trying to get
free. He was obviously determined to do so. This scandalous
relationship, when had it begun? Would her effort to hold him fail? It
looked that way, and yet surely Suzanne, when she knew, when she
understood, would leave him. Any woman would.

Her head ached, her hands were hot, she fancied she might be suffering a
terrible nightmare, she was so sick and weak; but, no, this was her
room. A little while ago she was sitting in her husband's studio,
surrounded by friends, the object of much solicitude, Eugene apparently
considerate and thoughtful of her, a beautiful programme being rendered
for their special benefit. Now she was lying here in her room, a
despised wife, an outcast from affection and happiness, the victim of
some horrible sorcery of fate whereby another woman stood in her place
in Eugene's affection. To see Suzanne, proud in her young beauty,
confronting