"I've got it back," she said with a thrill. "I feel it flowing back; the power one has through being pretty and magnetic. If a woman's tired out she can't be magnetic. But I've got it all again--and more. I wonder if a man can ever understand the pleasure of having it? It's coming to me again just as I had it fresh and unconquered in those dear old days when you were at my feet." He spoke in a sort of beaten amazement. "If you want me again at your feet--" "Thank you, I don't. I'll never pay the price again. Never! Never!" "Then whom do you want? Do you mean there's anyone else? By God! if there is--" As she saw his fury she could laugh. "There isn't." "Let's sit down again," he said more quietly; "this isn't threshed out yet." "If more discussion gives you any pleasure I'll discuss. But what I said I meant. I'm not glad to see you; I'm sorry. You mean the breaking-up of household peace for me again. Men would be surprised, if they knew how many wives are glad to see their husbands go." "Take care you don't drive me into going for good. Your way of treating a man is pretty dangerous." "I'm sorry," she replied with a convincing gentleness, "that I shouldn't care if you did go. I'd have the children." "Do you mean they've been more to you than I have?" "What haven't they been to me?" Her face was soft. "You can't think--you've never troubled to know--how kind children are." "Once I was first with you." She quoted with irreverent glee: "'And they that were first shall be last.'" "You can laugh?" "Thank God I can, at last." "Supposing I did go--right now?" She shrugged her shoulders slightly and the mauve shoulder straps again arrested him. She did not speak; but without her answer, whatever it would have been, he knew that he could not leave her; that he must always come back at last, longing for her arms. Ten o'clock struck, and she looked up thoughtfully at the wedding-gift timepiece. "I'm going to bed," she said. "Good night." A dark rush of colour flooded his face. "You really mean--" She nodded. "Then," he almost whispered, "exactly how do we stand?" "I'll keep house for you very capably and look after our children. You can leave me if you like, you know." "God!" he groaned. "What are women made of?" "Ordinary flesh and blood that gets tired and wants loving. Have you only just remembered to inquire?" He ran after her along the corridor as she went swiftly to her room. "Marie!" he prayed. "Relent! Marie, it'll be all so different now. I've all this money; you could have what you wanted." "I know it'll be different. But, you see, you've done something to me; you've killed all the love I had for you, drained it dry somehow. There's none left. I just--I just--don't want you."