boat to South America. But his unclouded mind drove inexorably to the
end: her conscience and unremitting sense of disgrace would work the
complete unhappiness of both. Divorce was equally out of the question.

As he approached her door he felt a strong inclination to pass it
and defer the inevitable interview until the morrow. He must step
warily with her as with the world, and he needed all his self-control.
If he lost his head and told her that he loved her he would not
save a crumb from his feast. Moreover, there was the possibility
of revealing her to herself if she loved him, and that would mean
utter misery for her.

Did she? He walked hastily past her door. His coolly reasoning brain
felt suddenly full of hot vapors.

Then he cursed himself for a coward and turned back. She would feel
herself deserted in her most trying hour, for she needed a reassuring
friend at this moment if never before. He had rarely failed to keep
his head when he chose and he would keep it now.

But when he entered the room his self-command was put to a severe
test. She was huddled in a chair crying, and although he scoffed at
woman's tears as roundly as Dr. Talbot, they never failed to rain on
the softest spot in his nature. But he walked directly to the hearth
rug and lit a cigarette.

"I hope you are not letting that old cat worry you." He managed to
infuse his tones with an amiable contempt.

But Madeleine only cried the harder.