"

"Together!" she cried shrilly. "When have we been together? Not
in years. You have been married to your business. I am only your
housekeeper, and Graham's mother. And even Graham you are trying to take
away from me. Oh, go away and let me alone."

Down-stairs, thoughts that were almost great had formulated themselves
in his mind; that to die that others might live might be better than to
live oneself; that he loved his country, although he had been shamefaced
about it; that America was really the melting-pot of the world, and
that, perhaps, only the white flame of war would fuse it into a great
nation.

But Natalie made all these thoughts tawdry. She cheapened them. She
found in him nothing fine; therefore there was probably nothing fine in
him. He went away, to lie awake most of the night.

CHAPTER XXIII

But, with the breaking off of diplomatic relations, matters remained
for a time at a standstill. Natalie dried her eyes and ordered some new
clothes, and saw rather more of Rodney Page than was good for her.

With the beginning of February the country house was far enough under
way for it to be promised for June, and Natalie, the fundamentals of its
decoration arranged for, began to haunt old-furniture shops, accompanied
always by Rodney.

"Not that your taste is not right, Natalie," he explained. "It is
exquisite. But these fellows are liars and cheats, some of them.
Besides, I like trailing along, if you don't mind."

Trailing along was a fairly accurate phrase. There was scarcely a day
now when Natalie's shining car, with its two men in livery, did not draw
up before Rodney's office building, or stand, as unostentatiously as a
fire engine, not too near the entrance of his club. Clayton, going
in, had seen it there once or twice, and had smiled rather grimly. He
considered its presence there in questionable taste, but he felt no
uneasiness. Determined as he was to give Natalie such happiness as was
still in him to give, he never mentioned these instances.

But a day came, early in February, which was to mark a change in the
relationship between Natalie and Rodney.

It started simply enough. They had lunched together at a down-town
hotel, and then went to look at rugs. Rodney had found her rather
obdurate as to old rugs. They were still arguing the matter in the
limousine.

"I just don't like to think of all sorts of dirty Turks and Arabs having
used them," she protested. "Slept on them, walked