But at his touch I shuddered, and drew myself away. I was Dicky's wife. This situation was intolerable. I must end it at once. With a mighty effort, I controlled my sobs and, wiping my eyes, sat upright. "Dear, dear boy," I said. "Please forgive me. I never thought of this or I would have told you over the telephone." "Told me what?" Jack's voice was harsh and quick. His arm dropped from my wrist. There was no use wasting words in the telling. I took courage in both hands. "I am married, Jack," I said faintly. "I have been married over a month." "God!" The expletive seemed forced from his lips. I heard the name uttered that way once before, when a man I knew had been told of his child's death in an automobile accident. It made me realize as nothing else could what Jack must be suffering. But he gave no other sign of having heard my words, simply sat erect, with folded arms, gazing sternly into vacancy, while the taxi rolled up Fifth avenue. Huddled miserably in my corner, I waited for him to speak. I had summoned courage to tell him the truth, but I could not have spoken to him again while his face held that frozen look. It frightened and fascinated me at the same time. A queer little wonder crossed my mind. Suppose I had known of this a year ago. Would I have married Jack, and never known Dicky? Would I have been happier so? Then there rushed over me the realization that nothing in the world mattered but Dicky. I wanted him, oh how I wanted him! Jack's suffering, everything else, were but shadows. My love for my husband, my need of him--these were the only real things. I turned to Jack wildly. "Oh, Jack, I must go home!" "Margaret." Jack's voice was so different from his usual one that I started almost in fear. "Yes, Jack." "I don't want you to reproach yourself about this. I understand, dear. The right man came along, and of course you couldn't wait for me to come back to give my sanction." "Oh! Jack! I ought to have waited: I know it. You have been so good to me" "I've been good to myself, being with you," he returned tenderly. "But I almost wish you had told me over the telephone. You would never have known how I felt, and it would have been better all around" He bent toward me, and crushed both my hands in his, looking into my face with a gaze that was in itself a caress. "Now you must go home, little girl, back to--your--husband." The words came slowly. "When shall I see you again, Jack?" I knew the answer even before it came. "When you need me, dear girl, if you ever do," he replied. "I can't be near you without loving you and hating your husband, whoever he may be, and that is a dangerous state of affairs. But, wherever I am, a note or a wire to the Hotel Alfred will be forwarded to me, and, if the impossible should happen and your husband ever fail you, remember, Jack is waiting, ready to do anything for you." My tears were falling fast now. Jack laid his hand upon my shoulder.