HER husband's note had briefly said:

　　"To-day at four o'clock. N.L."All day she pored over the words in an agony of longing, tryingto read into them regret, emotion, memories, some echo of thetumult in her own bosom. But she had signed "Susy," and hesigned "N.L." That seemed to put an abyss between them. Afterall, she was free and he was not. Perhaps, in view of hissituation, she had only increased the distance between them byher unconventional request for a meeting.

　　She sat in the little drawing-room, and the cast-bronze clockticked out the minutes. She would not look out of the window:

　　it might bring bad luck to watch for him. And it seemed to herthat a thousand invisible spirits, hidden demons of good andevil, pressed about her, spying out her thoughts, counting herheart-beats, ready to pounce upon the least symptom of over-confidence and turn it deftly to derision. Oh, for an altar onwhich to pour out propitiatory offerings! But what sweetercould they have than her smothered heart-beats, her choked-backtears?

　　The bell rang, and she stood up as if a spring had jerked her toher feet. In the mirror between the dried grasses her facelooked long pale inanimate. Ah, if he should find her toochanged--! If there were but time to dash upstairs and put on atouch of red ....

　　The door opened; it shut on him; he was there.

　　He said: "You wanted to see me?"She answered: "Yes." And her heart seemed to stop beating.

　　At first she could not make out what mysterious change had comeover him, and why it was that in looking at him she seemed to belooking at a stranger; then she perceived that his voice soundedas it used to sound when he was talking to other people; and shesaid to herself, with a sick shiver of understanding, that shehad become an "other person" to him.

　　There was a deathly pause; then she faltered out, not knowingwhat she said: "Nick--you'll sit down?"He said: "Thanks," but did not seem to have heard her, for hecontinued to stand motionless, half the room between them. Andslowly the uselessness, the hopelessness of his being thereovercame her. A wall of granite seemed to have built itself upbetween them. She felt as if it hid her from him, as if withthose remote new eyes of his he were staring into the wall andnot at her. Suddenly she said to herself: "He's suffering morethan I am, because he pities me, and is afraid to tell me thathe is going to be married."The thought stung her pride, and she lifted her head and met hiseyes with a smile.

　　"Don't you think," she said, "it's more sensible-witheverything so changed in our lives--that we should meet asfriends, in this way? I wanted to tell you that you needn'tfeel--feel in the least unhappy about me."A deep flush rose to his forehead. "Oh, I know--I know that--"he declared hastily; and added, with a factitious animation:

　　"But thank you for telling me.""There's nothing, is there," she continued, "to make our meetingin this way in the least embarrassing or painful to either ofus, when both have found ...." She broke off, and held her handout to him. "I've heard about you and Coral," she ended.

　　He just touched her hand with cold fingers, and let it drop.

　　"Thank you," he said for the third time.

　　"You won't sit down?"He sat down.

　　"Don't you think," she continued, "that the new way of ... ofmeeting as friends ... and talking things over without ill-will ... is much pleasanter and more sensible, after all?"He smiled. "It's immensely kind of you to feel that.""Oh, I do feel it!" She stopped short, and wondered what onearth she had meant to say next, and why she had so abruptlylost the thread of her discourse.

　　In the pause she heard him cough slightly and clear his throat.

　　"Let me say, then," he began, "that I'm glad too--immensely gladthat your own future is so satisfactorily settled."She lifted her glance again to his walled face, in which not amuscle stirred.

　　"Yes: it--it makes everything easier for you, doesn't it?""For you too, I hope." He paused, and then went on: "I wantalso to tell you that I perfectly understand--""Oh," she interrupted, "so do I; your point of view, I mean."They were again silent.

　　"Nick, why can't we be friends real friends? Won't it beeasier?" she broke out at last with twitching lips.

　　"Easier--?""I mean, about talking things over--arrangements. There arearrangements to be made, I suppose?""I suppose so." He hesitated. "I'm doing what I'm told-simplyfollowing out instructions. The business is easy enough,apparently. I'm taking the necessary steps--"She reddened a little, and drew a gasping breath. "Thenecessary steps: what are they? Everything the lawyers tellone is so confusing .... I don't yet understand--how it'sdone.""My share, you mean? Oh, it's very simple." He paused, andadded in a tone of laboured ease: "I'm going down toFontainebleau to-morrow--"She stared, not understanding. "To Fontainebleau--?"Her bewilderment drew from him his first frank smile. "Well--I chose Fontainebleau--I don't know why ... except that we'venever been there together."At that she suddenly understood, and the blood rushed to herforehead. She stood up without knowing what she was doing, herheart in her throat. "How grotesque--how utterly disgusting!"He gave a slight shrug. "I didn't make the laws ....""But isn't it too stupid and degrading that such things shouldbe necessary when two people want to part--?" She broke offagain, silenced by the echo of that fatal "want to part." ...

　　He seemed to prefer not to dwell farther on the legalobligations involved.

　　"You haven't yet told me," he suggested, "how you happen to beliving here.""Here--with the Fulmer children?" She roused herself, trying tocatch his easier note. "Oh, I've simply been governessing themfor a few weeks, while Nat and Grace are in Sicily." She didnot say: "It's because I............