ther people
merely _should_ or _may_, or _may not_. Whoever does not comprehend that
has nothing in common, one way or the other, with me."

She was terrified at the presumptuousness of his words; and yet there
was a feeling in her of joy and pride: she felt a desire to be for him,
to be with him. If he was fighting against the very power that would in
the end overcome him, he was doing it for her sake. She did not feel,
therefore, that she had the right to withdraw from him. The thing about
it all that gave her a wonderful feeling of relief, and at the same time
made her morally flabby and carried her away, was the passion of his
will and the undaunted assurance of his feelings.

But their eyes chanced to meet; and in the eyes of each there was the
name of Gertrude.

Gertrude stood between them in living form. Everything they had said had
proceeded from her and returned to her. That Daniel was not thinking of
annulling his marriage, that he could not think of it, Eleanore knew. A
child was expected; who could reject the mother under these
circumstances? How would it be possible, poor as they were, to expose
both mother and child to the inevitable misery that would follow
annulment of the marriage? Daniel could not do this, and Eleanore knew
it.

But she also knew, for she knew her sister, that separation from Daniel
would mean her death. She knew too that Daniel considered his marriage
to Gertrude as indissoluble, not only because of his knowledge of her
character, but because there was in his life with Gertrude something
that is quite independent of passions, views, and decisions, something
that binds even in hate and binds even more firmly in despair.

Eleanore knew all this. She knew that Daniel knew it. And if she drew
the only conclusion that could be drawn from his argument and his state
of mind, she knew what he demanded of her.

He was demanding that she give herself up to him. Of this there could be
not a shred of doubt.

But how? Secretly? Could that produce happiness? With the understanding
of Gertrude? Could Gertrude endure such a thought, even if she were as
magnanimous as a saint? Where was the way that could be followed? Where
was there an angle from which embarrassment, anxiety, and ruin were not
ready to leap forth without warning?

She bowed her head, and covered it with her hands. She sat in this
position for a long while. Darkness settled down over the roofs of the
houses.

Suddenly she