"I told you, Rivers, that I knew you couldn't believe me--you cannot. Partly this is due to life, as we men know it; partly to your interpretation of it, but at least I owe it to you and myself to speak the truth and let truth take care of itself. By the code that is current in the world, I might claim all that you believe I am after, for I think your wife might learn to love me--I know I love her. If I set her free from you, permit her to see you as you are, in her shock and relief she might turn to me and I might take her and, God helping me, make a safe place for her; give her what her hungry soul craves, and still feel myself a good sort. That would be the common story--the thing that might once have happened. But, Rivers, you don't know me and you don't know--your wife. I've only caught the glimmer of her, but that has caused me to grow--humble. She's got to be free, because that is justice, and you and I must give it to her. When you free her--it's up to me not to cage her!" Northrup found expression difficult--it all sounded so utterly hopeless with that doubting, sneering face confronting him; and his late distrust of himself--menacing. "Besides, your wife has her own ideals. That's hard for us men to understand. Ideals quite detached from us; from all that we might like to believe is good for us. I have my own life, Rivers. Frankly, I was tempted to turn my back on it and with courage set sail for a new port. I had contemplated that, but I'm going back to it and, by God's help, live it!" And now Northrup's face twitched. He waited a moment and then went hopelessly on: "What the future holds--who knows? Life is a thundering big thing, Rivers, if we play it square, and I'm going to play it square as it's given me to see it. You don't believe me?" Almost a wistfulness rang in the words. Larry leaned back and laughed a hollow, ugly laugh. "Believe you?" he said. "Hell, no!" "I thought you couldn't." Northrup got up. Around the edges of the lowered shades, a gray, drear light gave warning of coming day. The effect of Larry's last drink was wearing off--he looked near the breaking point. "Rivers, I'll make a pact with you. Set your wife free--in my way. If you do that, I'll leave the place; never see her again unless a higher power than yours or mine decrees otherwise in the years on ahead. Take your last chance, man, to do the only decent thing left you to do: start afresh somewhere else. Forget it all. I know this sounds devilish easy and I know it's devilish hard, but"--and here the iron was driven into Rivers's consciousness--"either you or I set Mary-Clare free before"--he hesitated; he wanted to give all that he humanly could--"before another forty-eight hours." Larry felt the cold perspiration start on his forehead; his stomach grew sick.