She tried again and again to reconstruct the scene with Martin--to try to recapture her sensations of the moment she was in his arms. Had it been rapture, or only surprise? Had it been a surge of gratitude to him because he loved her? After all, he was the first man to say his devotion to her. Jerry had made no protestations of love; she had expected none. Were not her feelings, at the moment, those of any woman when she is told for the first time that she is loved? She thought of herself as Martin's wife, living with him in all the daily intimacies of marriage; she found that her mind, here, turned swiftly away to their mental association. It was always Jerry she saw shaving, Jerry she heard singing in his bath. She could not manage the transfer successfully at all, she found. Then she tried to conceive of her life devoid of Martin. If she were still married to Jerry, and Martin was gone for good, what then? It seemed like saying "could you be comfortable without your right hand?" Some days she bitterly regretted the death of the unknown Mrs. Christiansen which had precipitated this climax. It was so much easier, the old way, with Jerry and Martin both in her life. Again she was glad it had all turned out so, glad that Martin loved her, wanted her. Glad that she had to face a decision about Jerry. There was one unescapable knot, no matter how she untangled the skein. She could not argue away the baby. He constituted Jerry's biggest hold upon her. For if Jerry had not given her love, he had given her something in its place which had aroused the one great passion in her nature. She loved Jerry Jr. with every throb of her heart. Wasn't this mother love enough? It had filled her life so far. It was, with Jane, fierce and absorbing. Man and woman love had so many elements, so many complexities, such possibilities of tragedy and sorrow. Would she not better cling to what she had and let the rest go by? So she told herself one day, only to cry out the next: "No, no; that is the old nun Jane! I want it all--all." Divorce was ugly to her. She forced herself to vision all its details. Explanations to their friends--arrangements about the child. She computed its effect upon little Jerry, torn between loyalty to his father and his mother, spending his time, now with one parent, now with the other. Growing up to a contempt for marriage, perhaps, or worse yet, contempt for his mother and father who publicly admitted their failure to keep their contract.