"She may very well not like it; but everything depends. I must see what I shall do. You mustn't worry about me." "Please open the house-door," said Fleda.!

Blanched and bleak, Mrs. Gereth looked at her. "What sort of an obligation do you call that? No such obligation exists for an hour between any man and any woman who have hatred on one side. He had ended by hating her, and now he hates her more than ever." "You plunge me in stupefaction," that lady answered, "and at the same time you terrify me. Your account of Owen is inconceivable, and yet I don't know what to hold on by. He cares for you, it does appear, and yet in the same breath you inform me that nothing is more possible than that he's spending these days at Waterbath. Excuse me if I'm so dull as not to see my way in such darkness. If he's at Waterbath he doesn't care for you. If he cares for you he's not at Waterbath."

"Yesterday?" "Of course I mean their marriage!" Fleda hesitated again. "I haven't the least idea." "What I mean to say is, if she's angry at your backing me up—what will you do then? She can't possibly like it, you know."