“The only word that seems at all right,” he said at last, “is _understanding_. Like seeing quite clearly, after being in a dusky room for a long time. That’s not at all a good illustration either. But you know the muddled sort of way in which one sees most people--wondering about them, if they’re interesting, or just accepting them, if they aren’t? With her, it’s been completely and absolutely different from the very start. I seemed able to see her quite clearly--her realest self--and to understand things about her that I’d never dreamed of before.” He made this explanation very haltingly, and although Mrs. Fazackerly’s perceptions instantly recognized his sincerity, she could not feel that his rather incoherent words had brought much enlightenment to her. “I wish I could say it better,” Bill observed wistfully. “I’d like to make you understand.” “I do,” Nancy began instinctively, and then she honestly added, “at least, I don’t. And I’m so afraid--please, please forgive me, Bill--I’m so dreadfully afraid that you’re going to be unhappy.” And Bill said, “I shouldn’t wonder.” Then they left the region of speculation, and Mrs. Fazackerly asked him what the exact position was. “Well, we thought that Harter would let her have a divorce. At least I thought so. Diamond was never sure that he would.” “And he won’t?” “No, he won’t. He said to-day that he never would. Although he knows that she’s unhappy with him--and he with her, for the matter of that--he says he won’t let her have a divorce. And I shouldn’t think that he was the sort of fellow who’d change his mind.” “Perhaps he thinks that divorce is wrong.” “He didn’t say so. Of course, it might be that. But he only said that she was his wife, and belonged to him, and that he didn’t mean to give her up.” Bill drew very hard at his pipe. “Which is true enough,” he added thoughtfully. “I don’t think I altogether see--exactly--why you ever felt so sure that he would let her have a divorce.” “Don’t you? Well, it seemed to me that, as he doesn’t care for her nor she for him, and as there are no children to complicate things, it would have been fairly obvious to let her have her freedom and give them both the chance of beginning again. But he’s--he’s hanging on to a formula, so to speak, the formula that she belongs to him--and so he won’t let her go.” “But what are you going to do?” “I don’t know yet,” said Captain Patch. Nancy Fazackerly felt very unhappy, and her face generally shows what she is feeling. “It’s very good of you to care,” said Bill Patch affectionately. “But I wish it didn’t make you unhappy. In spite of everything, I’m so awfully, awfully happy myself.” The boyish slang expression, Nancy said, somehow touched her almost more than anything. She asked if there was anything that she could do for him and he said no. “But you’ve already done a great deal--more than anybody. You’ve done a lot for her,” said Captain Patch.