'Of course I give up the Foreign Office and my salary there, but you have some money of your own, Edith; it will be enough for you and the children to live quietly. And perhaps I shall be able to afford to send you part of my income that my father left me when I get something to do over there,' he added rather lamely. 'You mean to get something to do?' 'Yes; when I'm strong enough. I'm very ill--very.' There was a long pause, then Edith said kindly: 'Have you any fault to find with me, Bruce?' 'Edith, you are a perfect mother,' he said in a peculiar tone which sounded to Edith like an echo of Madame Frabelle. 'I've no fault to find with you either as a wife. But I'm not happy here. I'm miserable. I implore you not to make a scene. Don't oppose me; forgive me--on account of my health. This will save my life.' If he only knew how little she wished to oppose him! She stood up. 'Bruce, you shall do exactly as you like!' He looked enchanted, relieved. 'I hope you will be happy and well, and I shall try to be. May I just ask--is Madame Frabelle going to America?' 'Edith, I will not deny it. We mean to throw in our lot together! Look out! You'll have the inkstand over!' She had moved near the writing-table. Edith stopped herself from a hysterical laugh. 'You won't mind if I go down to the club for an hour?' 'Certainly not.' 'And, Edith--say what you can to my mother, and comfort her. Tell her it's to save my going off my head, or committing suicide. Will you say that?' 'I will,' she replied. Five minutes later the door banged. Bruce had gone to the club. He hadn't told her he had taken a room there, and the same evening he sent up for his luggage. He did not wish to see Edith again. Just before he went out, as if casually for an hour at the club, Edith had said: 'Would you like to come and see Dilly asleep?' It had occurred to her that at least he had been frank and honest, and for that he deserved to see Dilly again. 'Edith, my nerves won't stand scenes. I'd better not. I won't see her.' 'Oh, very well!' she cried indignantly. 'I offered it for your sake. I would rather you _didn't_ see her.' 'Try not to be angry, Edith. Perhaps--some day--' 'No. Never.' 'You would never let me come back again to see you all?' 'Never. Never.' 'Edith.' 'Yes.' 'Oh! nothing. You needn't be so cross. Remember my health.' 'I do,' said Edith. 'And--Edith.' 'Yes, Bruce?' 'Don't forget about that inkstand, will you? It's always filled just a little too full. It's--it's very awkward.... Remember about it, won't you?' 'Yes. Good night.' 'Good night.' And Bruce went to the club. * * * * * The next day Edith felt she could neither write nor telephone to Aylmer. Just once--only once, for a long time--she must see him. She confided in Landi, who invited them both to tea at his studio for once only and was urgent in impressing patience on them. * * * * *