“Well, I’ll be damned!” Ed was dumfounded.  “Isn’t this rather sudden?” he managed to inquire.

“Oh no.  You’ve suggested it more than once.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in divorces—­couldn’t stomach ’em?  What’s happened?”

“I have changed my mind.”

“Humph!  People don’t change their minds in a minute,” he cried, angrily.  “Is there some other man?”

Now Ed Austin had no faintest idea that his wife would answer in the affirmative, for he had long ago learned to put implicit confidence in her, and her life had been so open that he could not imagine that it held a double interest.  Therefore her reply struck him speechless.

“Yes, Ed,” she said, quietly, “there is another man.”

It was like her not to evade.  She had never lied to him.

Ed’s mouth opened; his reddened eyes protruded.  “Well—­” he stammered.  “Well, by God!” Then after a moment:  “Who is it, the Greaser or the cowboy?” He laughed loudly, disagreeably.  “It must be one or the other, for you haven’t seen any men except them.  Another man!  Well, you’re cool about it.”

“I am glad you know the truth.”

Muttering to himself, Ed made a short excursion around the room, then paused before his wife with a sneer on his lips.  “Did it ever occur to you that I might object?” he demanded.

Alaire eyed him scornfully.  “What right have you to object?”

Ed could not restrain a malevolent gleam of curiosity.  “Say, who is it?  Ain’t I entitled to know that much?” As Alaire remained silent he let his eyes rove over her with a kind of angry appreciation.  “You’re pretty enough to stampede any man,” he admitted.  “Yes, and you’ve got money, too.  I’ll bet it’s the Ranger.  So, you’ve been having your fling while I was away.  Hunh!  We’re tarred with the same stick.”

“You don’t really believe that,” she told him, sharply.

“Why not?  You’ve had enough opportunity.  I don’t see anything of you, and haven’t for years.  Well, I was a fool to trust you.”

Alaire’s eyes were very dark and very bright as she said:  “I wonder how I have managed to live with you as long as I have.  I knew you were weak, nasty—­so I was prepared for something like this.  But I never thought you were a downright criminal until—­”

“Criminal?  Rot!”

“How about that Guzman affair?  You can’t go much lower, Ed, and you can’t keep me here with you.”

“I can’t keep you, eh?” he growled.  “Well, perhaps not.  I suppose you’ve got enough on me to secure a divorce, but I can air some of your dirty linen.  Oh, don’t look like that!  I mean it!  Didn’t you spend a night with David Law?” He leered at her unpleasantly, then followed a step as she drew back.

“Don’t you touch me!” she cried.