“No, dear—­that won’t do.  How many times already have you agreed to try and how many times have you failed?  You can stop if you wish.  You are not a weakling.  You’re a big man, a strong man.  You can stop if you wish and you must promise me that you will or—­I—­”

“Or what?” he demanded.

“Or I shall take the only other course open to me and—­leave you.”

“Leave me!”

“Yes.”

He looked at her curiously as if trying to see if she really meant what she said.  He could hardly believe that she was serious.  Rising, he went towards her, and bending over her said gravely: 

“Let me get this straight.  You say I must promise that I will never take another drink or you’ll leave me.  Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Your mind is made up?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s an ultimatum?”

“Yes.”

“And you want an answer here and now?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, then, you shall have it.  I won’t promise.”

His answer came upon her like a shock.  She Had expected that he would agree to anything, but he actually defied her.

“Robert!” she cried despairingly.

“I can’t be driven and I won’t be bullied,” he said doggedly.  “No man, by holding a revolver to my head, can force me to do anything I don’t want to do, nor can any woman either—­not even you.”

As he spoke, her face grew a little paler, the lines about her mouth deepened.  If that was the way he chose to look upon their relations, the sooner the end came the better.

“Very well,” she said coldly.

She had turned as if to go to her room when he again spoke: 

“Besides, there has to be a head of every family Just as there had to be a head of every business, and so long as I have any family I am going to be the head of it!  If I had a partner and he came to me and said ‘Do this thing or I quit you,’ whether the thing was right or wrong, I’d say, ‘Go ahead.  Quit.’  Because if I didn’t, from that moment on, he, not I, would be the boss!  So it is with us.”

“Then I—­am to—­go,” she said slowly.

“That is for you to say.  But if you do go, remember that it is of your own volition.  I want you to stay—­you understand?”

She made no answer and he went on: 

“One thing is certain.  You can’t think very much of me, or you couldn’t even think of leaving me like this—­”

“It is because I do love you,” she cried hysterically, “that I must leave you.  You don’t understand that now but, oh! how I hope that some day you will.  Good-bye!”

She went toward the dressing table as if to get her hat and coat.  He halted her with a gesture.

“Just a minute, dear.”

She stopped.

“Well?”

Approaching her, he said kindly: 

“You are doing a very foolish thing.”

She shook her head.

“I’m doing the right thing.”