“Dearest Old Judge: This isn’t the real one. This is just a hundred-kiss one, this. The real one is pinned to your pillow over there—our pillow—where it ought to be, don’t you think? I don’t want you to be unhappy at not finding me home, Judgie, see? And I don’t want you to get mad and quarrel. And I do want you to be sure to find the other letter. So don’t be angry, see? But call me up at the Gildas’. I’m dying to see you, dearie, really and truly I am! I’ve been so lonesome without you! (Yes!) You’re sure to find me out there. And you’re not to be angry—not one little frown, do you hear? I just couldn’t help it, dearest! So read the other letter now! “IDELLE.” _If only his hands wouldn’t tremble so! Damn her! Damn her! Damn her! To think she would always treat him like this! To think he was never to have one decent hour of her time to himself, not one! Always this running here, there and everywhere away from him, as it were!_ He crumpled up the note and threw it on the floor, then went to the window and looked out. There over the way at her own spacious door was young Mrs. Justus just entering her car—a simple, home-loving little woman, who would never dream of the treacheries and eccentricities of Idelle; who, if she even guessed what manner of woman she was, would never have anything more to do with her. Why couldn’t he have loved a girl like her—why not? And just beyond, the large quiet house of the Walterses, those profoundly sober people of the very best ways and means, always so kind and helpful, anxious to be sociable, of whom Idelle could think of nothing better to say than “stuffy.” Anything kind and gentle and orderly was just stuffy to her, or dull. That was what she considered him, no doubt. That’s because she was what she was, curses on her! She couldn’t stand, or even understand, profoundly worthy people like the Justuses or the Walterses. (There was May Walters now at her dining-room window.) And then there were the Hartleys.... But that other note of hers—what did it say? He ought to read that now, whether he left or no; but he would leave this time, well enough!