“You have that most potent of acquisitive forces, unassailable egotism. I used to look into the faces of the painted parasites riding along Fifth Avenue in their cars and wonder why so much was laid at their feet. That was before I learned--_you_.” “To think that you, John, should learn anything from me!” “Egotism is the most acquiring force in the world. All great men have it, but in them it is covered or excused by their greatness. All women successful with men have it to the degree of a sort of hypnotism. They blind men to what they are with the bright light of what they think they are. You, for instance, think so well of yourself that one needs strong lenses to see your faults. I used to hope that you’d dim some day--have a doubt of yourself. But you never did. You are all strength in your egotism.” Hard words they were, yet sadly spoken. During them the beautiful subject had wavered between pique and pleasure. At their finish, she offered her child-sweet laugh. “After this, I can refuse you nothing. Name the rather unusual favor which you say you have come to ask!” “I wish you, Catherine, to get a divorce.” “You--_you_ want a divorce?” Astonishment overcame both pique and pleasure. “The boy was our only link. Now that he is gone, free me. You may have the money--as much of it as you want. I can make more. Of late I’ve had literally forced on me plenty of that which is my value in your eyes. I’ll try to meet any demands you make. You see, I assume that you have no reason other than money for keeping up this pretense longer.” “So, it has come to this?” Both face and form relaxed as she coaxed the cushions to give her greater comfort. The astonishment in her eyes had been replaced by shrewdness; that, in turn, by mild amusement. But the golden lines of her eye-brows were arched, as always when she was at mental tension. “Do you intend this request, my hitherto immaculate John, to be taken as a confession of guilt?” “_Guilt?_” The one repeated word, weighted by disgust, was the whole of his denial. “Whence--where--how, then, a divorce, without _cause_? Are we not citizens of the supposedly respectable commonwealth of New York?” “There is Reno.” “_Reno!_” As if from force of her emphasis, Catherine sprang up from her lounge, crossed the room and faced him. “So you’ve been calculating on Reno? A nice, chivalrous plan--for _me_ to endure such tedium and long-suffering to oblige you with a divorce! Four days’ train travel from New York and six months’ residence in a Wild West town in the kind of hotel that has only one bath to a floor and wouldn’t know what you meant by _à la carte_ if you spelled it backward and translated it into Indian. My dear husband, what could you offer that would repay me for one of those awful exiles in Nevada’s make-believe metropolis?” “What sum has d’Elie named?” “_John!_ Are you trying to insult me?” “No, Catherine. I am trying to settle with you.”