She did not mean what occurred to him; the things in her mind were of too untechnical a nature to find a hearing in the divorce courts; but as she asked her question suddenly his heart seemed to rock and to stand still for a space, while he shifted his eyes rapidly from hers and gazed straight out over the steering-wheel, down the hill, into the blue-white moonlit distance. Roselle! Who would believe his innocent tale if he stood up in that sad court which recorded the most human of all frailties, and said: "We travelled together here and we travelled together there; and I defrayed these expenses and those expenses; and I've kissed her; and yes, we've certainly been alone in very compromising circumstances, but I ask you to believe that technically my marital honour is intact, and that I've been true and faithful to my wife"? The fun and the folly which had been so worth while, so like a draught of wine on the cold journey through middle-class pauperism, now appeared stripped of their carnival trappings. It was only folly which stared back at him now, and she had become ugly; sickening and wholly undesirable. Folly was utter trash. He replied to Marie in a voice so studied as to rivet her attention, asking: "What do you mean?" She looked at him, and knowledge came to her, born of a swift intuition raised by his obvious difficulties. In a flash she knew; but even while she knew, she didn't care; it was lamentable, how dead she was. "Oh," she hesitated, a faint smile crossing her lips, "I mean nothing. Please don't suppose I wish to make your private affairs mine." So great was his want that she should feel, should ask and demand him to give up his secrets, that he was impelled to declare: "Marie, if you were to ask me, I'd tell you everything about this last year. Every little thing. There should be nothing kept back from you." "I don't ask, Osborn," she replied very gently. Silence settled down upon them. They remained at the top of the great hill, each staring down it into the long space of unearthly clearness and light. Automatically he withdrew his arm from her shoulders where it had been resting heavily and dropped his hand on the steering-wheel. After awhile he said: "By the way, I'm going out with this car to-morrow." "So you told me," she answered. "Had I mentioned it before?" he said thickly. "Well ... I shall be out all day." "Thank you for telling me. It's considerate of you. We make a little difference in the catering if you're out." He clenched his hand round the wheel. "I'm running down to Brighton; but I shall get back to town for dinner; late motoring's pretty cold in November. I shall be dining at Pagani's--where we used to go so much, you remember." "I remember. I hope you'll have a fine day." He gave a savage twitch to the hand-brake, let in his clutch, and in a moment or two the car ran forward. "It beats me," he whispered to himself. "It--just--beats--me."