.

"I shiver when I think of him, Simmy, but not with dread or revulsion. I
am always thinking of the days when he held me tight in those big, strong
arms of his,--and that's what makes me shiver. I adored being in his arms.
I shall never forget. People said that he would never amount to anything.
They said that he was too strong to work and all that sort of thing. He
didn't think much of himself, but I _know_ he would have come through all
right. He is the best of his breed, I can tell you that. Think how young
he was when we were married! Little more than a boy. He has never had a
chance to be a man. He is still a boy, puzzled and unhappy because he
can't think of himself as anything but twenty,--the year when everything
stopped for him. He's twenty-five now, but he doesn't know it. He is still
living in his twenty-first year."

"I've never thought of it in that light," said Simmy, considerably
impressed. "I say, Lutie, if you care so much for him, why not--" He
stopped in some confusion. Clearly he had been on the point of trespassing
on dangerous ground. He wiped his forehead.

"I can finish it for you, Simmy, by answering the question," she said,
with a queer little smile. "I want to help him,--oh, you don't know how my
heart aches for him!--but what can I do? I am his wife in the sight of God,
but that is as far as it goes. The law says that I am a free woman and
George a free man. But don't you see how it is? The law cannot say that we
shall not love each other. Now can it? It can only say that we are free to
love some one else if we feel so inclined without being the least bit
troubled by our marriage vows. But George and I are still married to each
other, and we are still thinking of our marriage vows. The simple fact
that we love each other proves a whole lot, now doesn't it, Simmy? We are
divorced right enough,--South Dakota says so,--but we refuse to think of
ourselves as anything but husband and wife, lover and sweetheart. Down in
our hearts we loved each other more on the day the divorce was granted
than ever before, and we've never stopped loving. I have not spoken a word
to George in nearly three years--but I know that he has loved me every
minute of the time. Naturally he does not think that I love him. He thinks
that I despise him. But I don't despise him, Simmy. If he had followed his
teachings he would now be married to some one else--some one of his
mother's choosing--and I should be loathing him i