"Shall I see you?"

"No, not for five days, Eugene."

"Mayn't I even call you up?"

"No, not for five days. After that, yes."

"All right, Flower Face--Divine Fire. I'll obey. I'm yours to command.
But, oh, sweet, it's a long time."

"I know, but it will pass."

"And you won't change?"

"No."

"They can't make you?"

"No, you know they can't, dearest. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I can't help feeling a little fearful, sweet. You are so young, so
new to love."

"I won't change. I won't change. I don't need to swear. I won't."

"Very well, then, Myrtle Bloom."

She hung up the receiver, and Mrs. Dale knew now that her greatest
struggle was before her.

Her several contemplated moves consisted first, in going to see
Mrs. Witla, unknown to Suzanne and Eugene, learning what she knew of how
things were and what she would advise.

This really did no good, unless the fact that it fomented anew the rage
and grief of Angela, and gave Mrs. Dale additional material wherewith to
belabor Eugene, could be said to be of advantage. Angela, who had been
arguing and pleading with Eugene all this time, endeavoring by one
thought and another to awaken him to a sense of the enormity of the
offense he was contemplating, was practically in despair. She had
reached the point where she had become rather savage again, and he also.
In spite of her condition, in spite of all she could say, he was cold
and bitter, so insistent that he was through with the old order that he
made her angry. Instead of leaving him, as she might have done, trusting
to time to alter his attitude, or to teach her the wisdom of releasing
him entirely, she preferred to cling to him, for there was still
affection left. She was used to him, he was the father of her coming
child, unwelcome as it was. He represented her social position to her,
her station in the world. Why should she leave him? Then, too, there was
this fear of the outcome, which would come over her like a child. She
might die. What would become of the child?

"You know, Mrs. Dale," she said at one point significantly, "I don't
hold Suzanne absolutely guiltless. She is old enough to know better. She
has been out in society long enough to know that a married man is sacred
property to another woman."

"I know, I know," replied Mrs. Dale resentfully, but cautiously, "but
Suzanne is so young. You really don't know how much of a child she is.
And she has this silly, idealistic, emotional dispositio