"So would I, so would I,--if it had been Martin," cried Grizel, sobbing. "Everything that belonged to myself. And it _isn't_ wrong; it isn't wicked; it's the human nature in us that we can't help. Every consideration for oneself goes down like ninepins before the one big thing. They don't count... It's the _other_ people who block the way!" "One other person in my case. Bernard doesn't count. I am nothing to him. Why should I ruin my life by staying with a man who doesn't want me? If it were not for the boy, I'd go to-night. You know what my married life has been,--would you think I was doing wrong if I left the pretence to take the reality? It would be a truer marriage, even if it were not blessed by the Church. Yet people would think we were wicked. Would you think so too?" Grizel hesitated. "Sure I may speak straight out?" "Of course. Of course. I asked you. I'm hurt so much already that you can't hurt me any more." But for several minutes Grizel sat silently, her hands folded on her knee, her eyes steadily gazing ahead. And as she sat, gradually, surely, the expression of her face changed. The sparkle died out of her eyes and left them soft and grave, the curling lips took on a new tenderness. It was as though she were deliberately banishing the things of this world, gathering to herself a strength to help in time of need. The little face grew tense with earnestness; when she spoke her voice had a deepened note. "Yes, dear, I think it would be wicked. Not so much for your own sake, as for all the people around. You know the inwardness of things, but they don't. They would see only the bare, ugly fact... `Lady Cassandra has eloped with her husband's friend!' It would be a bad breath stealing out, infecting wherever it went; searching out weak places, and weakening them still more,--If you three were alone on a desert island, I wouldn't hesitate a moment in your place. I should go to my mate, and there would be no sin on my soul, but we're not in the desert, we're in a crowd, and you, poor darling! are perched high up. You are a big person here in this little place; down to the very school-children, everyone notices, everyone copies, everyone takes you as an example of what should be. And they have to keep the laws themselves, poor souls! whether they like them or not... How do you think it would look to them if you, who have so much, threw over your duties, just to please yourself?" Cassandra shook her head with a dreary indifference.