His wife sat as if turned to stone for only a few seconds. When
she spoke it was naturally and cheerfully.

"I'll be ready in no time, dear. Where are we to dine?" She
glanced at her little crystal clock as she spoke, as if she were
computing casually the length of the drive before dinner. But what
she said in her heart was, "At this time to-morrow it will all
have been over for many hours!"

A few days later the Gregorys sailed for Bermuda, Rachael with a
sense of whipped and smarting shame that was all the more acute
because she could not share it with this dearest comrade and
confidant. Warren thought indeed that the miserable episode of the
past week had been dismissed from her mind, and delighting like a
boy in the little holiday, and proud of his beautiful wife, he
found their hours at sea cloudless. With two men, whose
acquaintance was made on the steamer, they played bridge, and
Rachael's game drew other players from all sides to watch her
leads and grin over her bidding. They walked up and down the deck
for hours together, they lay side by side in deck chairs lazily
watching the blue water creep up and down the painted white ropes
of the rail; but they never spoke of Clarence Breckenridge.

The Mardi-Gras dance had been like a hideous dream to Rachael. She
had known that it would be hard from the first sick moment in
which the significance of Clarence's suicide had rushed upon her.
She had known that her arriving guests would be gay and
conversational, that the dance and the supper would go with a dash
and swing which no other circumstance could more certainly have
assured for them; and she knew that in every heart would be the