expect　to　travel　too　fast　with　her。　　Had　he　not　at　least　gained　a　signal
  victory？　　When　he　remembered　her　lipswhich　she　had　indubitably　given
  him！he　increased　his　stride；　and　in　what　seemed　an　incredibly　brief
  time　he　had　recrossed　the　bridge；　covered　the　long　residential　blocks　of
  Warren　Street；　and　gained　his　own　door。
  The　house　was　quiet；　the　children　having　gone　to　bed；　and　he　groped　his
  way　through　the　dark　parlour　to　his　den；　turning　on　the　electric　switch；
  sinking　into　an　armchair；　and　lighting　a　cigar。　　He　liked　this　room　of
  his；　which　still　retained　something　of　that　flavour　of　a　refuge　and
  sanctuary　it　had　so　eminently　possessed　in　the　now　forgotten　days　of
  matrimonial　conflict。　　One　of　the　few　elements　of　agreement　he　had　held
  in　common　with　the　late　Mrs。　Ditmar　was　a　similarity　of　taste　in
  household　decoration；　and　they　had　gone　together　to　a　great　emporium　in
  Boston　to　choose　the　furniture　and　fittings。　　The　lamp　in　the　centre　of
  the　table　was　a　bronze　column　supporting　a　hemisphere　of　heavy　red　and
  emerald　glass；　the　colours　woven　into　an　intricate　and　bizarre　design；
  after　the　manner　of　the　art　nouveauso　the　zealous　salesman　had　informed
  them。　　Cora　Ditmar；　when　exhibiting　this　lamp　to　admiring　visitors；　had
  remembered　the　phrase；　though　her　pronunciation　of　it；　according　to　the
  standard　of　the　Sorbonne；　left　something　to　be　desired。　　The　table　and
  chairs；　of　heavy；　shiny　oak　marvellously　and　precisely　carved　by
  machines；　matched　the　big　panels　of　the　wainscot。　　The　windows　were　high
  in　the　wall；　thus　preventing　any　intrusion　from　the　clothes…yard　on　which
  they　looked。　　The　bookcases；　protected　by　leaded　panes；　held　countless
  volumes　of　the　fiction　from　which　Cora　Ditmar　had　derived　her　knowledge
  of　the　great　world　outside　of　Hampton；　together　with　certain　sets　she　had
  bought；　not　only　as　ornaments；　but　with　a　praiseworthy　view　to　future
  culture；such　as　Whitmarsh's　Library　of　the　Best　Literature。　　These
  volumes；　alas；　were　still　uncut；　but　some　of　the　pages　of　the　novelsif
  one　cared　to　open　themwere　stained　with　chocolate。　　The　steam　radiator
  was　a　decoration　in　itself；　the　fireplace　set　in　the　red　and　yellow　tiles
  that　made　the　hearth。　　Above　the　oak　mantel；　in　a　gold　frame；　was　a　large
  coloured　print　of　a　Magdalen；　doubled　up　in　grief；　with　a　glory　of　loose；
  Titian　hair；　chosen　by　Ditmar　himself　as　expressing　the　nearest　possible
  artistic　representation　of　his　ideal　of　the　female　form。　　Cora　Ditmar's
  objections　on　the　score　of　voluptuousness　and　of　insufficient　clothing
  had　been　vain。　　She　had　recognized　no　immorality　of　sentimentality　in　the
  art　itself；　what　she　felt；　and　with　some　justice；　was　that　this
  particular　Magdalen　was　unrepentant；　and　that　Ditmar　knew　it。　　And　the
  picture　remained　an　offence　to　her　as　long　as　she　lived。　　Formerly　he　had
  enjoyed　the　contemplation　of　this　figure；　reminding　him；　as　it　did；　of
  mellowed　moments　in　conquests　of　the　past；　suggesting　also　possibilities
  of　the　future。　　For　he　had　been　quick　to　discount　the　attitude　of　bowed
  despair；　the　sop　flung　by　a　sensuous　artist　to　Christian　orthodoxy。　　He
  had　been　sceptical　about　despairfeminine　despair；　which　could　always　be
  cured　by　gifts　and　baubles。　　But　to…night；　as　he　raised　his　eyes；　he　felt
  a　queer　sensation　marring　the　ecstatic　perfection　of　his　mood。　　That
  quality　in　the　picture　which　so　long　had　satisfied　and　entranced　him　had
  now　become　repellent；　an　ugly　significant　reflection　of　something
  something　in　himself　he　was　suddenly　eager　to　repudiate　and　deny。
  It　was　with　a　certain　amazement　that　he　found　himself　on　his　feet　with
  the　picture　in　his　hand；　gazing　at　the　empty　space　where　it　had　hung。
  For　he　had　had　no　apparent　intention　of　obeying　that　impulse。　　What
  should　he　do　with　it？　　Light　the　fire　and　burn　itframe　and　all？　　The
  frame　was　an　integral　part　of　it。　　What　would　his　housekeeper　say？　　But
  now　that　he　had　actually　removed　it　from　the　wall　he　could　not　replace
  it；　so　he　opened　the　closet　door　and　thrust　it　into　a　corner　among　relics
  which　had　found　refuge　there。　　He　had　put　his　past　in　the　closet；　yet　the
  relief　he　felt　was　mingled　with　the　peculiar　qualm　that　follows　the
  discovery　of　symptoms　never　before　remarked。　　Why　should　this　woman　have
  this　extraordinary　effect　of　making　him　dissatisfied　with　himself？　　He
  sat　down　again　and　tried　to　review　the　affair　from　that　first　day　when　he
  had　surprised　in　her　eyes　the　flame　dwelling　in　her。　　She　had　completely
  upset　his　life；　increasingly　distracted　his　mind　until　now　he　could
  imagine　no　peace　unless　he　possessed　her。　　Hitherto　he　had　recognized　in
  his　feeling　for　her　nothing　but　that　same　desire　he　had　had　for　other
  women；　intensified　to　a　degree　never　before　experienced。　　But　this　sudden
  access　of　moralityhe　did　not　actually　define　it　as　suchwas
  disquieting。　　And　in　the　feverish；　semi…objective　survey　he　was　now
  making　of　his　emotional　tract　he　was　discovering　the　presence　of　other
  disturbing　symptoms　such　as　an　unwonted　tenderness；　a　consideration
  almost　amounting　to　pity　which　at　times　he　had　vaguely　sensed　yet　never
  sought　imaginatively　to　grasp。　　It　bewildered　him　by　hampering　a
  ruthlessness　hitherto　absolute。　　The　fierceness　of　her　inflamed　his
  passion；　yet　he　recognized　dimly　behind　this　fierceness　an　instinct　of
  selfprotectionand　he　thought　of　her　in　this　moment　as　a　struggling　bird
  that　fluttered　out　of　his　hands　when　they　were　ready　to　close　over　her。
  So　it　had　been　to…night。　　He　might　have　kept　her；　prevented　her　from
  taking　the　car。　　Yet　he　had　let　her　go！　　There　came　again；　utterly　to
  blot　this　out；　the　memory　of　her　lips。
  Even　then；　there　had　been　something　sorrowful　in　that　kiss；　a　quality　he
  resented　as　troubling；　a　flavour　that　came　to　him　after　the　wildness　was
  spent。　　What　was　she　struggling　against？　　What　was　behind　her　resistance？
  She　loved　him！　　It　had　never　before　occurred　to　him　to　enter　into　the
  nature　of　her　feelings；　having　been　so　preoccupied　with　and　tortured　by
  his　own。　　This　realization；　that　she　loved　him；　as　it　persisted；　began　to
  make　him　uneasy；　though　it　should；　according　to　all　experience；　have　been
  a　reason　for　sheer　exultation。　　He　began　to　see　that　with　her　it　involved
  complications；　responsibilities；　disclosures；　perhaps　all　of　those　things
  he　had　formerly　avoided　and　resented　in　woman。　　He　thought　of　certain
  friends　of　his　who　had　become　tangled　upof　one　in　particular　whose　bank
  account　had　been　powerless　to　extricate　him。。。。　　And　he　was　ashamed　of
  himself。
  In　view　of　the　nature　of　his　sex　experience；　of　his　habit　of　applying　his
  imagination　solely　to　matters　of　business　rather　than　to　affairs　of　the
  heart；if　his　previous　episodes　may　be　so　designated；his　failure　to
  surmise　that　a　wish　for　marriage　might　be　at　the　back　of　her　resistance
  is　not　so　surprising　as　it　may　seem；　he　laid　down；　half　smoked；　his　third
  cigar。　　The　suspicion　followed　swiftly　on　his　recalling　to　mind　her
  vehement　repudiation　of　his　proffered　gifts　did　he　think　she　wanted　what
  he　could　buy　for　her！　　She　was　not　purchasablethat　way。　　He　ought　to
  have　known　it；　he　hadn't　realized　what　he　was　saying。　　But　marriage！
  Literally　it　had　never　occurred　to　him　to　image　her　in　a　relation　he
  himself　associated　with　shackles。　　One　of　the　unconscious　causes　of　his
  fascination　was　just　her　emancipation　from　and　innocence　of　that　herd…
  convention　to　which　most　womeneven　those　who　lack　wedding　ringsare
  slaves。　　The　force　of　such　an　appeal　to　a　man　of　Ditmar's　type　must　not
  be　underestimated。　　And　the　idea　that　she；　too；　might　prefer　the　sanction
  of　the　law；　the　gilded　cage　as　a　popular　song　which　once　had　taken　his
  fancy　illuminatingly　expressed　itseemed　utterly　incongruous　with　the
  freedom　and　daring　of　her　spirit；　was　a　sobering　shock。　　Was　he　prepared
  to　marry　her；　if　he　could　obtain　her　in　no　other　way？　　The　question
  demanded　a　survey　of　his　actual　position　of　which　he　was　at　the　moment
  incapable。　　There　were　his　children！　　He　had　never　sought　to　arrive　at
  even　an　approximate　estimate　of　the　boy　and　girl　as　factors　in　his　life；
  to　consider　his　feelings　toward　them；　but　now；　though　he　believed　himself
  a　man　who　gave　no　weight　to　social　considerationshe　had　scorned　this
  tendency　in　his　wifehe　was　to　realize　the　presence　of　ambitions　for
  them。　　He　was　young；　he　was　astonishingly　successful；　he　had　reason　to
  think；　with　his　opportunities　and　the　investments　he　already　had　made；
  that　he　might　some　day　be　moderately　rich；　and　he　had　at　times　even
  imagined　himself　in　later　life　as　the　possessor　of　one　of　those　elaborate
  country　places　to　be　glimpsed　from　the　high　roads　in　certain　localities；
  which　the　sophisticated　are　able　to　recognize　as　the　seats　of　the
  socially　ineligible；　but　which　to　Ditmar　were　outward　and　visible　emblems
  of　success。　　He　liked　to　think　of　George　as　the　inheritor　of　such　a
  place；　as　the　son　of　a　millionaire；　as　a　〃college　graduate；〃　as　an
  influential　man　of　affairs；　he　liked　to　imagine　Amy　as　the　wife　of　such
  another。　　In　short；　Ditmar's　wife　had　left　him；　as　an　unconscious　legacy；
  her　aspirations　for　their　children's　social　prestige。。。。
  The　polished　oak　grandfather's　clock　in　the　hall　had　struck　one　before　he
  went　to　bed；　menta