She said to herself, with a little pain at her heart, that she
didn't understand it. It was all right, of course, whatever Greg
did was all right, but she did not understand it. To be so near,
to have that hideous war of wind and water raging over the world,
and not to come somehow--to swim or row or ride to her, to bring
her delicious companionship and reassurance out of the storm! Why,
had she known that Greg was so near no elements that ever raged
could have held her--

But of course, she was reminding herself presently, Greg had never
been to Quaker Bridge, he had no reason to suppose her in actual
danger; indeed, perhaps the danger had always been more imagined
than real. If his hosts had been merely bored by the weather,
merely driven to cards, how should he be alarmed?

"Did the Valentines know what a tide we were having in Quaker
Bridge?" she asked, after a while.

"Never dreamed it; didn't know we'd been cut off until it was all
over!" That was reassuring, at least. "And, you see, I couldn't
say much about our plans. Alice Valentine's all wool, of course,
but she's anything but a yard wide! She wouldn't have understood--
not that it matters, but it was easier not! She was sweet to you
at the wedding, and she'll ask us to dinner, and you two will get
along splendidly. But she's not as--big as George."

"You mean, she doesn't like the--divorce part of it?"

"Or words to that effect," the doctor answered comfortably. "Of
course, she'd never have said a word. But they are sort of simple