“It came to me in a flash,” he went on, “that Magsie had come to care for me.  Poor little Magsie, she hadn’t meant to, she hadn’t seen it coming.  I remember her looking up at me—­she didn’t have to say a word.  ‘I’m sorry, Magsie,’ I said.  That was all.  The touching thing was that even in that trouble she turned to me.  We talked it over, I took her back to her hotel, and very simply she said, ‘Kiss me, once, Greg, and I’ll be good!’ After that I didn’t see her for a long, long time.

“It seemed to me a sacred charge—­you can see that.  I couldn’t doubt it, the evidence was right there before my eyes, and thinking it over, I couldn’t be much surprised.  We were in the fix, and of course there was nothing to be done.  She went away and that was the end of it, then.  But when I saw her again last winter the whole miserable business came up.  The rest, of course, she told you.  She is unhappy and rebellious, or she would never have dared to come to you!  I can’t understand her doing so, now, for Magsie is a good little sport, Rachael; she knows you have the right of way.  The affair has always been with that understanding.  However much I feel for Magsie, and regret the whole thing—­why, I am not a cad!” He struck her to her heart with his friendly smile.  “You brought the subject up; I don’t care to discuss it,” he said.  “I don’t question your actions, and all I ask is that you will not question mine!”

“Perhaps—­the world—­may some day question them, Warren!” Rachael tried to speak quietly, but she was beginning to be frightened at her own violence.  She shook with actual chill, her mouth was dry and her cheeks blazing.

“The world?” He shrugged.  “I can hardly see that it is the world’s business that you go your way and I go mine!” he said reasonably.  He glanced at his watch.  “Perhaps you will be so good as to say no more about it?” he suggested.  “I have no time, now, anyway.  Marriage—­”

“Warren!” Rachael interrupted hoarsely.  She stopped.

“Marriage,” he went on, “never stands still!  A man and woman are growing nearer together hourly, or they are growing apart.  There is no need, between reasonable beings, for recriminations and bitterness.  A man is only a man, after all, and if I have been carried off my feet by Magsie—­as I admit I have been—­why, such things have happened before!  When she and my wife—­who might have protected my dignity—­meet to discuss the question of their feelings, and their rights, then I confess that I am beyond my depth.”

He took a deep chair and sat back, his knees crossed, his elbow on the chair arm, his chin resting on his hand, as one conscious of scoring a point.

“And what about the boys’ feelings and rights?” Rachael said in a low, tense tone.

“There you are!” Warren exclaimed.  “It’s all absurd on the face of it—­the whole tangle!”

His wife looked at him in grave, dispassionate scrutiny.  Of what was he made, this handsome, well-groomed man of forty-eight?  What fatal infection had poisoned heart and brain?  She saw him this morning as a stranger, and as a most repellent stranger.