"How can I get at him? He'll come when he's ready," Fleda replied. "Yes, that doesn't happen very often, does it?" Mrs. Brigstock looked round afresh at Fleda's home.!

"By Jove, I did—for you! It was only for you." "Then of course she won't like your changing."

"She would have had no doubt you would be here, if you had a chance," Mrs. Brigstock returned. "If your letter had arrived it might have prepared me for finding you here at tea. In that case I certainly wouldn't have come." "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." "How can I tell you? How can I talk of such horrors? I can only give you, of the situation, what I see. He knew it, yes. But as she couldn't make him forget it, she tried to make him like it. She tried and she succeeded: that's what she did. She's after all so much less of a fool than he. And what else had he originally liked?" Mrs. Gereth shrugged her shoulders. "She did what you wouldn't!" Fleda's face had grown dark with her wonder, but her friend's empty hands offered no balm to the pain in it. "It was that if it was anything. Nothing else meets the misery of it. Then there was quick work. Before he could turn round he was married."