Ralph looked at her in surprise, and she continued:  “Why do you suppose she’s suddenly made up her mind she must have Paul?”

“That’s comprehensible enough to any one who knows her.  She wants him because he’ll give her the appearance of respectability.  Having him with her will prove, as no mere assertions can, that all the rights are on her side and the ‘wrongs’ on mine.”

Clare considered.  “Yes; that’s the obvious answer.  But shall I tell you what I think, my dear?  You and I are both completely out-of-date.  I don’t believe Undine cares a straw for ’the appearance of respectability.’  What she wants is the money for her annulment.”

Ralph uttered an incredulous exclamation.  “But don’t you see?” she hurried on.  “It’s her only hope—­her last chance.  She’s much too clever to burden herself with the child merely to annoy you.  What she wants is to make you buy him back from her.”  She stood up and came to him with outstretched hands.  “Perhaps I can be of use to you at last!”

“You?” He summoned up a haggard smile.  “As if you weren’t always—­letting me load you with all my bothers!”

“Oh, if only I’ve hit on the way out of this one!  Then there wouldn’t be any others left!” Her eyes followed him intently as he turned away to the window and stood staring down at the sultry prospect of Fifth Avenue.  As he turned over her conjecture its probability became more and more apparent.  It put into logical relation all the incoherencies of Undine’s recent conduct, completed and defined her anew as if a sharp line had been drawn about her fading image.

“If it’s that, I shall soon know,” he said, turning back into the room.  His course had instantly become plain.  He had only to resist and Undine would have to show her hand.  Simultaneously with this thought there sprang up in his mind the remembrance of the autumn afternoon in Paris when he had come home and found her, among her half-packed finery, desperately bewailing her coming motherhood.  Clare’s touch was on his arm.  “If I’m right—­you will let me help?”

He laid his hand on hers without speaking, and she went on: 

“It will take a lot of money:  all these law-suits do.  Besides, she’d be ashamed to sell him cheap.  You must be ready to give her anything she wants.  And I’ve got a lot saved up—­money of my own, I mean...”

“Your own?” As he looked at her the rare blush rose under her brown skin.

“My very own.  Why shouldn’t you believe me?  I’ve been hoarding up my scrap of an income for years, thinking that some day I’d find I couldn’t stand this any longer...”  Her gesture embraced their sumptuous setting.  “But now I know I shall never budge.  There are the children; and besides, things are easier for me since—­” she paused, embarrassed.

“Yes, yes; I know.”  He felt like completing her phrase:  “Since my wife has furnished you with the means of putting pressure on your husband—­” but he simply repeated:  “I know.”