-tell her all.... The longing to
have her, to tell her has become almost--almost unendurable--lately....
I have so much need of her.... You don't know the desolation of it--and
the fear! I beg your pardon for talking this way. It's over now. You see
I am quite calm."

"Can't you confide in your--other mother--"

"I have no right. She did not bear me."

"It is the same as though you were her own; she feels so--"

"She cannot feel so! Nor can I. If I could I would take my fears and
sorrows and my sins to her. I could take them to my own mother, for both
our sakes; I cannot, to her, for my own sake alone. And never can."

"Then--I don't understand! You have just suggested telling her about
ourselves, haven't you?"

"Yes. But not that it has been a horror--a mistake. If I tell her--if I
think it necessary--best--to tell them, I--it will be done with mask
still on--cheerfully--asking pardon with a smile--I do not lack that
kind of courage. I can do that--if I must."

"There will be a new ceremony?"

"If they wish.... I can't--can't talk of it yet, unless I'm driven to
it--"

He looked quietly around at her. "What drives you, Shiela?"

Her eyes remained resolutely fixed on the road ahead, but her cheeks
were flaming; and he turned his gaze elsewhere, thoughtful, chary of
speech, until at last the lights of the station twinkled in the north.

Then he said, carelessly friendly: "I'll just say this: that, being of
no legitimate use to anybody, if you find any use for me, you merely
need to say so."

"Thank you, Louis."

"No; I thank you! It's a new sensation--to be of legitimate use to
anybody. Really, I'm much obliged."

"Don't speak so bitterly--"

"Not at all. Short of being celestially translated and sinlessly
melodious on my pianola up aloft, I had no hope of ever being useful to
you and Hamil--"

She turned a miserable and colourless face to his and he ceased,
startled at the tragedy in such young eyes.

Then he burst out impulsively: "Oh, why don't you cut and run with him!
Why, you little ninny, if I loved anybody like that I'd not worry over
the morals of it!"

"What!" she gasped.

"Not I! Make a nunnery out of me if you must; clutch at me for
sanctuary, if you want to; I'll stand for it! But if you'll listen to me
you'll give up romantic martyrdom and sackcloth, put on your best frock,
smile on Hamil, and go and ask your mother for a bright, shiny,
brand-new divorce."

Revolted, incensed, ey