new kind of marriage,
a new kind of family, a new kind of parents, and a new kind of man.
We've got the new kind of woman."
"We've got the new man. Why, Jerry, you're one of them," said Jane.
"I? Good Lord!" he exclaimed, and the discussion ended in laughter.
Talk drifted far and wide, as it was wont to do with these four friends.
Jane persuaded Jerry to show them his picture, and they discussed it,
methods of work, kinds of inspiration, all the questions of the creative
process which forever intrigue artists.
It was eleven o'clock before Bobs rose to go. Jerry insisted upon
walking to her studio with her, and Jane was glad of her opportunity to
have a few moments alone with Martin. As the door closed on them, she
turned to him.
"Martin, my friend, has it been an unusually trying visit for you?" she
asked gently.
"Yes. My freedom has come to me, Jane."
"You mean she has gone?"
"Yes, poor soul, two days ago."
"Martin, I am glad, glad for you both."
She held her hands to him impulsively and he laid his eyes against them
in silence.
"Has it hurt so deeply that you cannot be glad, Martin?"
"Jane, what does it mean to me now? I've borne my slavery all these
years without groaning, but my freedom has come too late."
"Martin, what a thing to say! Freedom can never be too late."
"Can you say that to me, Jane? Jane! Don't you know how I love you--how
I want you--how deeply I need you, my beloved?"
"Martin!"
He swept her into his arms with swift passion. She lay perfectly
motionless against his breast for several seconds, with his cheek
against her hair. Then she slowly released herself, laid her palm
against his face, and looked into his eyes.
"Forgive me," he whispered.
A sound caught her attention. She looked up, and past him. Jerry was
standing in the door of the studio.
CHAPTER XXXI
"Come in, Jerry," Jane said quietly.
He obeyed her, his face so white and set that he looked years older,
like a stranger who had accidentally come in upon this, the most vital
moment of her life.
Martin turned at sound of her words, with a sigh that was almost a
groan. Jerry came across the long studio to them, looking at Jane. He
stopped, facing her, still gazing at her.
"I have just told Jane that I love her," Martin said presently. Jerry
nodded. "I think you ought to know."
"I have known it for some time," Jerry replied.
Martin shook his head.
"You could not have known it.
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