died."

"Lonely?" she echoed. "Then my leaving you will not matter so much.
Here," she said, slipping off her wedding-ring, "this belongs to you."
She remembered Mrs. Earle's proceeding, and though she had not yet
decided what course to pursue in order to maintain her liberty, she
regarded this as the significant and definite act. She held out the
ring, but Babcock shook his head.

"The law doesn't work as quick as that, nor the church either. You can
get a divorce if you're set on it, Selma. But we're husband and wife
yet."

"Only the husk of our marriage is left. The spirit is dead," she said
sententiously. "I am going away. I cannot pass another night in this
house. If you will not take this ring, I shall leave it here."

Babcock turned to hide the tears which blinded his eyes. Selma regarded
him a moment gravely, then she laid her wedding-ring on the table and
went from the room.

She put her immediate belongings into a bag and left the house. She had
decided to go to Mrs. Earle's lodgings where she would be certain to
find shelter and sympathy. Were she to go to her aunt's she would be
exposed to importunity on her husband's behalf from Mrs. Farley, who was
partial to Lewis. Her mind was entirely made up that there could be no
question of reconciliation. Her duty was plain; and she would be doing
herself an injustice were she to continue to live with one so weak and
regardless of the honor which she had a right to demand of the man to
whom she had given her society and her body. His gross conduct had