“Magsie,” he said almost pleadingly, interrupting the hard little voice, “can’t you see what a mistake it’s all been?”

She looked at him with eyes suddenly flooded with tears.

“M-m-mistake to s-s-say we loved each other, Greg?”

The man did not answer.  Presently Magsie began to speak in a sad, low tone.

“You can go now if you want to, Greg.  I’m not going to try to hold you.  But I know you’ll come back to me to-morrow, and tell me it was all just the trouble other people tried to make between us—­it wasn’t really you, the man I love!”

“I’ll write you,” he said after a silence.  And from the doorway he added, “Good-bye.”  Magsie did not turn or speak; she could not believe her ears when she heard the door softly close.

Next day brought her only a letter from the steamer, a letter reiterating his good-byes, and asking her again to forgive him.  Magsie read it in stupefaction.  He was gone, and she had lost him!

The first panic of surprise gave way to more reasonable thinking.  There were ways of bringing him back; there were arguments that might persuade Rachael to adhere to her original resolution.  It could not be dropped so easily.  Magsie began to wonder what a lawyer might advise.  Billy came in upon her irresolute musing.

“Hello, dearie!  But I’m interrupting—–­” said Billy.

“Oh, hello, darling!  No, indeed you’re not,” Magsie said, tearing up an envelope lazily.  “I was trying to write a letter, but I have to think it over before it goes.”

“I should think you could write a letter to your beau with your eyes shut,” Billy said.  “You’ve had practice enough!  I know you’re busy, but I won’t interrupt you long.  Upon my word, I had a hard enough time getting to you.  There was no boy at the lift, and only a dear old Irish girl mopping up the floors.  We had a long heart-to-heart talk, and I gave her a dollar.”

“A dollar!  I’ll have to move-you’re raising the price of living!” said Magsie.  “She’s the janitor’s wife, and they’re rich already.  What possessed you?”

“Well, she unpinned her skirts and went after the boy,” Billy said idly, “and it was the only thing I had.”  She was trying quietly to see the name on the envelope Magsie had destroyed, but being unsuccessful, she went on more briskly, “How is the beau, by the way?”

“I wish I had never seen the man!” Magsie said, glad to talk of him.  “His wife is raising the roof now—–­”

“I thought she would!” Billy said wisely.  “I didn’t see any woman, especially if she’s not young, giving all that up without a fight!  You know I said so.”

“I know you did,” said Magsie ruefully.  “But I don’t see what she can do!”

“Well, she can refuse to give him his divorce, can’t she?” Billy said sensibly.

“But can she?” Magsie was obviously not sure.

“Of course she can!”

“But she doesn’t want him.  I went to see her—­”