though you didn't know, I was in Hell. Reason told
me I was right. Instinct, something, called me a drag. I tried to
compromise, and we were married. Then, for the first time, came
realization. We were the best of friends,--but only friends."

"You wonder how I knew. I didn't tell you then. I couldn't. I could
only feel, and that not clearly. The shadow of your 'why' was still
dark upon me. What I vaguely felt then, though, I know now; as I
recognize light or cold or pain." Her voice assumed the tone of one
who speaks of mysteries; slow, vibrant. "In every woman's mind the
maternal instinct should be uppermost; before everything, before
God,--unashamed, inevitable. It's unmistakably the distinction of a
good woman from a bad. The choosing of the father of her child is a
woman's unfailing test of love."

The face of the man before her dropped into his hands, but she did not
notice.

"Gropingly I felt this, and the knowledge came almost as an
inspiration. It gave a clue to--"

"Stop!" The man's eyes blazed, as he leaped from his chair. "Stop!"

He took a step forward, his hand before him, his face twitching
uncontrollably. The collie on the step awoke, and seeing his mistress
threatened, growled ominously.

"Stop, I tell you!" Arnold choked for words. This the man of "why,"
whom nothing before could shake!

Camilla paled as her companion arose, and the dog, bristling, came
inside the room.

"Get out!" blazed the man, with a threatening step, and the collie
fled.

The interruption loosed words which came tumbling forth in a torrent,
as Arnold returned to face her.

"You think I'm human, and yet tell me that to my face?" His voice was
terrible. "You women brand men cruel! No man on earth would speak as
you have spoken to a woman he'd lived with for four years!" The
sentences crowded over each other, like water over a fall--his eyes
flashing like a spray.

"I told you before, I'm not on trial; that it was not my place to
defend. I don't do so now; but since you've spoken, I'll answer your
question. You ask why I didn't come a year ago, hinting that I wanted
to be more cruel. God! the blindness and injustice of you women!
Because we men don't show--Bah!... I was paying my own price. We
weren't living by the marriage vow; it was but a farce. Our own
contract was the vital thing, and it had said--But I won't repeat.
God, it was bitter! But I thought you'd come back. I loved you still."
He paused for words, breat