When she reached home and had got into bed she wept a little, but her
tears were neither of joy nor sorrow. Her capacity for both was
exhausted. In this strange mood she fell asleep nor did she waken when,
at midnight, Lise stealthily crept in beside her.




CHAPTER X

Ditmar stood staring after the trolley car that bore Janet away until it
became a tiny speck of light in the distance. Then he started to walk
toward Hampton; in the unwonted exercise was an outlet for the pent-up
energy her departure had thwarted; and presently his body was warm with a
physical heat that found its counterpart in a delicious, emotional glow
of anticipation, of exultant satisfaction. After all, he could not expect
to travel too fast with her. Had he not at least gained a signal victory?
When he remembered her lips--which she had indubitably given him!--he
increased his stride, and in what seemed an incredibly brief time he had
recrossed the bridge, covered the long residential blocks of Warren
Street, and gained his own door.

The house was quiet, the children having gone to bed, and he groped his
way through the dark parlour to his den, turning on the electric switch,
sinking into an armchair, and lighting a cigar. He liked this room of
his, which still retained something of that flavour of a refuge and
sanctuary it had so eminently possessed in the now forgotten days of
matrimonial conflict. One of the few elements of agreement he had held in
common with the late Mrs. Ditmar was a similarity of taste in household
decoration, and they had gone together to a great emporium in Boston to