“What kind of fool do you take me for? Do you expect me to give up my wife and child, my home--give up my whole existence and pretend to be someone else--just to oblige you? You must be mad!--I’ve come back and here I am--come to stay,” he ended, doggedly, “to pick up my life again!” There was a shade of sympathy in Satterthwaite’s eyes as he contemplated him. “But can’t you see that it’s impossible to pick it up again where you left off?” he said. “Can’t you see that as Harry Tremaine you can never be happy again? You can’t get away from what has happened--it will always be there, haunting you--and you’ll be reminded of it--pointed at. The other women will make your wife’s life a hell in the thousand little subtle ways they have. And besides, _what have you been doing for the past two years_? You’ve been living somewhere--as somebody. That existence will always be waiting in the background--ready to spring out on you--and you can’t guard against it, for you don’t even know what it was!” The young woman bent forward. “Can’t you remember, Harry?--Can’t you think where you’ve been--what you’ve been doing?” she asked, anxiously. “Oh!” she added, with a little despairing gesture, “I only want to do what is right--what is best for all of us!” Tremaine shook his head. “I haven’t the remotest idea of where I was at lunchtime to-day!” he said. “I may have come straight out of hospital, for all I know.” Satterthwaite nodded, humouring him. “You may--of course,” he said. “But it’s highly improbable. Two years is a long time to stay in hospital. Almost certainly you have been living somewhere, in new relationships. Be reasonable, my friend. Can’t you see that the only thing is to sell out to me--and clear off, go right away--start a fresh life?” Tremaine revolted. “I’m damned if I do!” he replied. “Right is right--you can’t get away from it. I’m Harry Tremaine--and I’ve come back to my wife and child--to my own existence--and I’ve got a right to them!” He rose from his chair. “Enough of this talk! I’m master of this flat--and I give you just time enough to pack up your traps. Get a move on!” His voice quivered with an anger he instinctively accentuated as a protection against the other man’s arguments. “I want to be alone with my wife! Get out!” He moved forward menacingly. Satterthwaite did not stir. “I think not,” he said, steadily. “Not like that.” Tremaine’s anger flamed up in him. “Get out!--or I’ll throw you out!” Satterthwaite smiled. “If you wish to fight for her----?” he said, grimly inviting. With a savage snarl, Tremaine tore off his coat. His wife sprang forward in terrified appeal. “Harry!” He flung her off brutally. “Stand out of this!” he said. “This is a man’s fight! I’ll deal with you afterward!”