Schroder regarded his friend askance. He suspected something. He had left Basine yesterday night and there had been no hint of anything happening. And today being Sunday.... He smiled to himself. "Covering up," he thought. "Husbands are comical." He decided not to press Basine. He had evidently been up to something ... "playing a matinee." He noticed that his friend was trying to change the subject. "Is it something personal?" Henrietta asked with a frown. "You frighten me, George, when you don't tell me things." Basine, sitting down, beamed with enthusiasm on the group, on his home. "Where are the children?" he asked. "Over at the Harveys," Henrietta answered. "Well," said her husband with an explosive intonation, "I've made up my mind to go after the circuit court. There's a chance next April." "Going to run for Judge, eh?" Schroder asked with interest. "Yes sir," Basine laughed. "I just had a session with some of the boys this afternoon and we discussed it." "Oh, I thought you were at Doris'," Henrietta interrupted. "I did see her," Basine answered, "but only for a few seconds. I spent most of the afternoon in conference." "Congratulations," Aubrey spoke. "Mac and I were going to...." Schroder stood up. "What do you say if we take a walk, Mrs. Gilchrist," he whispered loudly. "Your husband insists that I get out. And I won't unless you come along." He laughed good-naturedly until Aubrey smiled, and nodded to his wife. "If you wish, Fanny." "It's awfully nice outside," Fanny agreed after a pause during which she looked carefully out of the window. Basine reached for his wife's hand and drew her toward his chair. "You're looking very well," he smiled at her. A pleasant light came to her eyes. For a moment the youthfulness that people had once admired when they had called her "such an enthusiastic girl" returned to her manner. "Oh now George!" she exclaimed. Basine felt a catch in his heart. A remorse, as if he had done something, came over him. He patted her hand tenderly. Henrietta repeated but in an almost colorless voice, "Oh, George." Schroder followed Fanny down the steps. As the door of the Basine apartment closed behind them, his fingers clutched her elbow and he leaned against her in a straightforward, jovial manner. Her experience as a married woman had brought a directness into Fanny's mind. She no longer found it necessary to conceal her thoughts from herself. She was still inclined to be publicly innocent but her mental life had taken on the proportions of an endless debauch. Marriage not only legalized sex but removed the barriers to thinking about it. She felt herself blushing childishly as Schroder, squeezing her arm, opened the door with a flourish. 15